
Mrs. R. p. Mee;ks. 



HEARTHSTONE 
ECHOES. 



MRS. R. P. MEEKS. 



" Our echoes roll from soul to soul, 
And grow forever and forever." 

— Tennyson. 



Nashville, Tenn.: 

McQuiDDY Printing Company. 

1902. 






/l ^^-f^ 



TtTf.\t1s«A»IY Of 

CONGRESS, 
Two Cowee Reoevit 

AUG. 9 1902 

Corw^loMT ftrmv 

CU^, u|._i fox. 

0UAS9 1^ XXo. NO. 

coi»r a. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1902, 

Bv Mrs. R. p. Meeks, 
In the Office of the Ubrarian of Congress, at Washington. 



PREFACE. 

Many times have I watched the differently tinted (jlouds 
as, on airy wings, they gently floated across the summer 
sky. I have studied their nature, have wondered at 
their construction, and have almost wished they could be 
more durable. I have tried in a feeble way to arrange 
them in permanent fo^rm, as nearly as possible. I have 
painted them on canvas, as overhanging and giving tint to 
trees, houses, mountains, and seas ; I have painted them en- 
circling the rising sun, then overshadowing " the sunset's 
radiant glow ; " I have painted the monstrous thunderheads, 
the dismal storm cloudy the snow cloud, the giltredged cloud, 
and the one with a silvery lining. Some of these paintings 
hang on the walls of our " home, sweet home; " so we can 
at any moment look at them and be somewhat reminded of 
the real objects, with their many forms and tints. 

In my quiet, serious moments, reflections drift into my 
mind like the many-tinted clouds, then chase each other a 
little while and sink beneath the horizon of thought ]N"ow 
and then I catch one and make a pencil drawing of it or 
place it in a blank book or in the columns of a local period- 
ical. Friends have repeatedly asked me to gather up 
and arrange in book form some of the thoughts I have 
thus preserved, but I have timidly shrunk from the task. 

It seemed presumptuous for me — little me — to undertake 

(iii) 



iv Prbfack. 

such a thing, especially since " of making many books there 
is no end." But I began to reason, thus : Every one desires 
to leave specimeois of his or her labor as keepsakes or me- 
mentos for the loved ones left on the shores of time; then 
why should it seem more presumptuous for me to leave a 
collection of my musings than quilts I have made, pictures 
I have painted, and other works of my hands I hope to 
leave ? So, while standing on the first rounds of the twen- 
tieth century, I have made the att.empt. 

Then what name shall the little volume bear ? '' Scat- 
tered Thoughts at Random Strung " is the most appropri- 
ate title I know, for the book is principally the result of 
odd moments and offhand efforts ; but as the length of this 
title might discourage the reader, I shall select a shorter 
one — " Heaethstone Echoes." This will also be appro- 
priate, as most of the articles have been written by the fire- 
side, and are, to a great extent, echoes of the heart's emo- 
tions. With few exceptions, no attention will be given to 
the date of the composition of these articles or the circum- 
stances suggesting them ; so they will, indeed, be " scattered 
thoughts at random strung." 

The reader will doubtless observe that in some of the ar- 
ticles the " figures " are slightly overdrawn for the sake 
of emphasizing the thought 

It is not the purpose of the book to follow any beaten path 
of science or to attempt an intellectual display. It will 
le^ve large words for philosophic minds ; it will leave the 
beautiful fiowers of language to be plucked by those whose 



Pre;fac^. V 

literary stature is sufficieiit to reach them. Its objects are : 
To try, in a meeik, unassumiiig way, to lift the veil of melan 
choly from the heartsi of some who have grown weary and 
heavy-hearted pondering over the mysterious clouds of our 
existence, and to assist them, in banishing the clouds and 
finding the golden sunshine; to aid in the proper education 
of the heart;; to lift some wayward youth out of the quick- 
sands of temptation and vice ; and to point the discouraged 
mind to the contemplation of a higher, holier life in that 
world without a clond. Let such be its echo; then God 
speed its humble mission) ! Mollie L. Meeks. 



LIST OF PORTRAITS 



Mrs. J. H. Meeks "What is Home without a Mother?" '''^ 

Gen. John H. Meeks "Our Father" >^"" 

R. P. Meeks " Fifty Years Ago " < 

Georgb I<. Mbkks " The Severed lyink " ^' 

Mr. AND Mits. W. H. Baldy " "Wedding Bells " 

John H, Meeks "WhoseBoy?" 

" GxANDMAMMA lyARiMORK " " Grandmatama 



U 



(vi) 



CONTENTS. 



I^ife's Echo i 

Weaving 3 

Chasing Bubbles 7 

The Great Mirror i4 

The "Lost Schoolhouse " i8 

The Old Persimmon Tree 24 

Mrs. Smith's Chip Basket 3° 

Unequally Yoked 37 

Shattered Roses 80 

How to Be Miserable 84 

Forest Jewels 9^ 

Life— What Is It? 92 

Filling the Grave 101 

Pay Day io5 

The Proof Sheet 108 

How Are You Building? m 

*' Electric Tip ;" or, A Comical Namesake I44 

Small Subjects I49 

The "Thumb Paper" 149 

Woman's Influence 155 

" The Baby " 165 

Dixie Whispers 166 

Thistle Down 188 

" The World Owes Me a Living " 192 

'• Grippe Rigors " 202 

A Charm String 203 

Danger Signals 206 

The Mirage 219 

" Watch— Be Ready " 225 

Secret Fire : 229 

Memorials 235 

A Tribute of Love 240 

Crush that Serpent's Head! 247 

A Broken Chain 263 

An Upward Glance 266 

(vii) 



viii Contents. 

What Jimmie Gave 269 

Are You a Slave ? 270 

Living in the Long Ago 285 

Living in the " Yet-to-Be " 291 

Shadows on the Wall 297 

Let Him Talk 301 

The Old Woolen Scarf 302 

The Mote Finder 303 

' ' Preach the Word " 305 

"Jack at all Trades " 305 

Unfortunate " R " 306 

Fortunate " R" 311 

Echoes from Mammoth Cave 318 

HOME CORNER. 

" What is Home without a Mother? " 343 

"Our Father " 347 

OUR OWN FIRESIDE. 

Fifty Years Ago 350 

Birthday Meditations 353 

Yes, We Miss You at Home 359 

The Severed Link 360 

Wedding Bells 366 

Who'll Be Next? 369 

The Family Wheel 370 

Whose Boy ? 372 

Birthday Letter 381 

" Grandmamma " 384 



HEARTHSTONE ECHOES. 



LIFE'S ECHO. 

" None of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself." 

EiPPLEs quiver on the surface of the lake long after the 
stone has reached its bed of earth. Speak aloud while sail- 
ing on the placid bosom of Echo E-iver^ and, though three 
hundred and fifty feet beneath earth's rugged crust, the 
myriads of crevices and " clifflete " of the gray limestone 
walls take up the sound and toss it, like a plaything, back 
and forth, back and forth, until its vibrations and reverber- 
ations fill the immense cavern hall, then die away in the 
dark distance. 

Every life has its echo — its influence. The character of 
this echo, its extent, and its number of repetitions depend 
upon the surroundings and the force which produced it. 
It can be made sweet and soothing, or it can be caused to 
harshly grate on every ear tuned to the melody and harmony 
of life. The lives of both good men and wicked men re- 
mind us of this ; the echoes of both will be heard long after 
the forces that propelled them shall have ceased to bei. The 
first transgression ; the first brother murderer ; the fatal look- 
ing back at Sodom's flames ; the mistake of "Jeroboam, . . . 
who made Israel to sin " — all these and many others send 

(i) 



2 Hearthstone; Echoes. 

harsh echoes down time's rushing river. These echoes, how- 
ever, are to a great extent overpowered by thrilling vibrations 
from the lives of righteous Abel, O'bedient Noah, faithful 
Abraham, and meek and lowly Moses. Resting here, faith 
enables us to see the life of the peerless One, whose echo 
rises in the first centiury, growii^ louder and loudeo", until 
peal after peal it resounds along the ages, and will never 
cease until blended with the music that will " make the uni- 
verse vocal with praisa" 

Echo speiaks without a tongue, yet its voice is heard the 
world around. Church and college buildings are echoes of 
the heart's warm impulses ; so' are the various reformations, 
Buch as the great proliibition movement. We trust that 
such echoes will continue to roll along the corridors of time, 
becoming louder and extending farther while the ages come 
and gO'. 

We are too much inclined to let our lives be nothing hut 
echoes — to only repeat what others have said, instead of 
having thoughts of our own ; to live off of the labors of oth- 
ers, instead of working for ourselves. 

The world is a great whispering gallery, from which are 
often echoed our very tones; then how essential that our 
accents be gentle and kind ! If we speak harshly to it, we 
may expect a harsh reply ; if we treat it with silent indif- 
ference, it will doubtless treat us in a like manner; if 
we speak in love and tender sympathy, its tones will usu- 
ally indicate the same spirit. " Can any tongue speak 
fairer ? " We should be like an echo — speak when we are 



Weaving. 3 

spoken to; but should not be like an echo — always hav- 
ing the last word. As Longfellow's arrow was hurled 
through the air and lost;, but waB at last foiund^ un- 
broken, in an oakj so our words, which, we often consider 
" wasted on the desert air/' may long, long afterwards be 
found " in the heart of a friend." Likewise, a motlier's 
love, echoing in a youth's brave heart, sometimes checks his 
downward wanderings and points him upward. In every 
way we should exert our best influence while living; then 
we will be neither afraid noir ashamed to 

" Let Echo, too, perform her part. 
Prolonging ev'ry note with art, 
And, in a low, expiring strain. 
Play all the concert o'er again." 



WEAVING. 



We are aware that the warp of life has' been placed in 
the loom, and we are all busily Aveaving. The shuttles are 
flying thick and fast. Our feet are on the treadles, con- 
stantly moving — down, up, do'wn., up' — keeping time with 
the old town clock ; our hands are busy, catching the shutr 
ties and arranging the tJireads; our minds are constantly 
planning and studying how to follow a certain design. 

Calmly watch the mystic weavers throwing their shuttles 
to and fro, amid noise and wild confusion. Some are con- 
tent with a rough, coarse, common cloth, because it requires 
less study and work; but every enthusiastic lover of the 



4 He;arthstone Echoes. 

sublime and beautiful aspires to something of better qual- 
ity. Some are content with cheap, perishing dyes; oth- 
ers select splendid colors which never fade. One person 
weaves into his web the most delicate tints of Flora's bower. 
Another weaves the azure of the vaulted skies, interspersed 
with gold, green, and scarlet — richest, gaudiest hues; but 
his eye soon becomes wearied by the flaming, flashy colors, 

And " now witli the gold of the wheaten sheaf 
He mingles the brown of the russet leaf." 

In this mystic web called " life " some weave a soft, del- 
icate fabric; others, the "rough and ready;" still otheirs, 
a fabric of skips and knots^ — a regular " knickerbocker." 
Some weave that which is strong and durable; others, the 
flimsy gauze, frail as cobwebs — ^beautiful to look upon, per- 
haps, but too delicate to be of service. Some weave with 
slow, stubborn, rebellious motion; complaining at every stroke 
of the beam ; others, mth hands swift and willing. The lat- 
ter class, cheered by the sweet service of song and animated 
by pleasing environments that seem to strengthen their 
arms, make their weaving a pastimei, and their work is 

" Soft and smooth and ever spreading, 
As if made for angels' treading;" 

the former class in mad hastei jerk the sley and tangle the 
threads, making many ugly " balks " in the beautiful pat- 
tern. 

Some " snap the minute, delicate threads 
, Of their curious lives asunder. 

And then blame Heaven for the tangled ends, 
And sit and grieve and wonder." 



Wkaving. 5 

Some weavers so quietly and patientlj ply the shuttle 
that their threads never break^ nor snarl, nor fray, nor tan- 
gle; with others the fabric becomes so skipped and worn 
and soiled, the threads so frayed and broken, that they be- 
come discouraged, fretted, and nervous, spoil the beautiful 
design, and "would fain give up the task. When tbeir work 
is finished, it is not accepted as a good article. ; it shows blots 
or stains placed thereon by many a tear that need not have 
fallen had they but stopped tO' correct their mistake at the 
first little tangle. Some appear color-blind; they seem to 
think one shade will answer as well as another, and tbus 
they spoil the pattern. Some want to weave the entire bolt, 
leaving no work for otheirs; some try to do all their part in 
one day, and thus die from overwork; whereas a much 
larger number would gladly leave it all for other hands 
to weave. 

At this great, whirring loo'm of time we all weave our 
separate threads — " some, stained ; others, fair ; " some, 
silk ; others, wool or cotton, flax or tow. The warp is, in tbe 
main, our natural selves ; the woof, our thoughts, our moods, 
our wordsj our actions. Some weave in too much of their 
own pride, temper, sensitiveness, and indomitable will ; oth- 
ers make a broad " ground " of tbeir own dark, deep sor- 
rows — their mingled fears and sighs and tears: — then 
" stripe " with their neighbors' vanities and criminal faults. 
There is a clasSj however, that Vvdll grace the loom; with a 
beautiful web of pure character, tende'mess., truth, and love, 
illumined by a Roman cross that gems the center. 



6 HEARTHSTONE ECHOES. 

TKe Master Workman stands near^ and sees if our 
character is real — sees if we ingeniously intermingle the 
shining warp and woof of each day so as to imitate the 
pattern assigned us; then he rolls it hack on that mys- 
terious beam. We hear his voice, as it were, in the rattle 
of the loom ; we see his pages of history unrolled f ro'm the 
beam. 0, the mystic weavers, the mystic thread, the mystic 
web of life ! 

Into the warp and woof of every book much is woven 
which the reader may regard as spurious or foreign; for it 
is fully as easy to criticise as to write a hook. Ho him it 
may appear as but " a cross and pile of threads " interlaced 
so as to form a pattern which may please or displease the 
fancy. " To the writer almost every filament has its own 
associates — ^how each bit of silk or wool or flax or tow was 
laboriously gathered or was blo'wn to him, when each was 
spun by the wheel of his fancy into yam, the color and tint 
which his imagination gave to each skein, and where each 
was finally woven into the fabric by the shuttle of his pen. 
Xo thread ever quite detaches itself from its growth and 
spinning, dyeing and weaving, and each draws him back to 
hours and places seemingly unrelated to the work." 

If this, my first attem.pt at " bookmaking," may fortu- 
nately escape the hypercritical gaze of those who criticise 
hut to condemn^ I trust that it may find its way over the 
lowly doorsill of so'me humble cottage, carrying with it a 
bright thread of good cheer to be woven into the web of 
some discouraged life. 



Chasing Bubbles. 7 

CHASING BUBBLES. 

Time's great index finger has since tiien made several 
revolutions, each time pointing one year farther toward the 
simset wave ; but memory brings back that day, distinct as 
yesterday. It was the birthday of somebody's little boy. 

" Six years old to-day — 'mos' a man! What mus' I do 
'cause it's my birthday ? I'm now too big to sit on mam- 
ma's knee and be a 'ha-a-hy/ Look at me ! Don't you see ? 
I've quit playin' ' girl ' now — quit wearin' dresses. Look 
at my new tro'users ! I'm a man now — 'mos' as big as papa. 
It's rainin' so hard, mamma says I mus' play in the house. 
Mammas is awful hard on little chilluns; but while we's lit- 
tle they will have their way. O, yes ! I know what I'll do: 
I'll blow bubbles ; that's what." 

With a short cane and a pan. of soapsuds he is soon as 
busy as a bee. For four hours he is oblivious to everything 
outside of the family room. On an adjoining lot carpen- 
ters are toiling hard, completing the inner work of a house- ; 
the busy saws are making music for the tired workmen, 
while the hammers go — tap, tap, tap — as a timely accompa- 
niment This dear little boy, however, does not see the 
carpenters, neither does he hear the music of saw or ham- 
mer; he is busy. The rain is falling almost in torrents, 
but he sees it not. The outer world gives him no trouble 
now. The carpenters are no more intent on their work than 
is the boy on his; the merchants feel no more interest in 
their business ; the king on his throne has his mind no more 
fully absorbed in national affairs than is the mind of this 



8 Hearthstone; Kchoes. 

dear little innocent absorbed in his business, for he is blow- 
ing bubbles. 

Yes, blowing bubbles. Here is one ascending to the 
ceiling. There ! it is coming down. He runs under It and 
blows it up again. It is now about to strike tKe mirror, 
but he blows it back ; it bursts, is gone. He makes another ; 
it strikes the lamp, and is no more. Another ; he blows too 
hard ; it bursts. He blows one over the bed ; it falls on the 
counterpane and disappears. Watch the next ; it falls on the 
carpet and rolls over and over and over, to his great delight. 
The next floats about through the room at his bidding (at 
his blowing). When he makes one which he considers a 
success, he applauds with his chubby little hands (as " Blind 
Tom " applauding his own music), thinking he has won a 
great victory. 

For little children this is splendid recreation, and by it 
several object lessons in science may be taughtw You may 
thus teach them many things about colors and their com- 
bination; may show that bubbles must have light in order 
to reflect the beautiful colors ; tell how the prismatic colors 
are produced, and explain what a rainbow is ; speak of the 
tenacity of soapsuds as comp'ared with, clear water; tell 
about how the bubbles are made to rise by being filled with 
warm breath, which is lighter than common air; and may 
then draw the comparison between bubbles and balloons. 
* That boy is much older now; he thinks he is too large to 
thus amuse himseK. Eeally, he supposes he has quit that 
kind of pastime, but he has not ; lie still speaids much of his 



Chasing Bubbi.es. 9 

precious life blowing bubbles. They rise before him — 
with assumed names now, however ; aud he recognizes them 
not by their real name, " bubbles/' but by their nom de 
guerre. They call themselves " life's realities," some hav- 
ing assumed the artistic names " Fun," " Pleasure," " Hap- 
piness," "Necessity," and such like; whereas others wear 
somber colors, and call themselves " Trouble," " Work," 
"Self-denial," and "Hard Times." With all the ear- 
nestness of his baby days he still chases the bright-col- 
ored ones and bows and moans over those of sombeir hues. 
But — look! — he is not alone in his fanciful employment; 
there stand some much older than he. What are they do- 
ing ? Watch them ! They, too, axe blowing bubbles. The 
workmen around them are busy at their various pursuits, 
the saws and hammers are now making coffins that may 
imprison their bodies ; yet they regard them not, for they are 
thinking about their bubbles. They watch these intently 
as they fly higher and higher in the air; they dash after 
them as they sail away. How amusing to see " gro^vn- 
up boys and girls " chasing bubbles ! But examine these 
bubbles carefully. They say something; not o^nly do they 
reflect the beautiful rainbow colors, but something is printed 
on each of tliem. Their mottoes are running people wild. 
Look ! What does that large, beautiful one say ? Read it ! 
It says : " This old country is too small for me." So it 
breaks loose from the cane that gave it its start and sails 
away toward the far west. The man watching that bubble 
says : "That's me, shore ! " Then he goes and does like- 



lo Hearthstone Echoes. 

wise. He is a mid die- aged man, whose life shadow is al- 
ready pointing eastward. He sells, or giveiS away, what he 
and his mfe liaye worked hard for^ leaves friends and kin- 
dred, and chases that bubble in search of a country large 
enough to contain him. By the time he reaches his desti- 
nation he finds that the bubble has lost its force, and so has 
he; not a very large country is required to contain him and 
his possessions now. 

A fair maiden is watching the next brilliant bubble. 
Painted on its round cheek of beauty (pretty as her own) 
she spies jewels and diamonds and fine clothing — such as 
she covets, but cannot consistently wear. Below them she 
sees written in small, dark letters: " Your parents are not 
very good to you; they do not dress you as they should. 
Come, be mine; I will give you all the fine things yooi want." 
She attempts to break loose from parental restraint and 
grasp tlie bubble, but a mysterious something prevents her. 
So there she stands, or sits, and pouts, watching that bubble 
and murmuring to herself and to her troubled parents its 
doleful words, changed to suit herself : " They don't dress 
me like other girls, or like they are able to do." Thus she 
deprives herself of the rosy-cheeked angel. Contentment, 
and robs her hard-working, self-sacrificing parents of a 
sweet-spirited, happy daughter. If they have been un- 
kind to her, it is by being too indulgent. Time speeds 
on. The bloom and beauty of her youth are wasted in cov- 
eting the transient possessions of the vain old queein, Style ; 
and before she is aware a sordid fro'"^m of discontent has 



Chasing Bubbi^es. ii 

frozeai over her features, rendering the jeiwels she already 
possesses unbecoming in the extreme. Another girl seizes 
that bubble, presses it; it is gone. Boys, does this expe- 
rience in any respect fit you? 

A young married couple are intently admiring a bubble 
now. The picture it presents is a magnificent home, with 
elegant furnishings — not the homely cottage in which their 
parents " made their starts" not even the O'ue that is the 
result of their lifetime savings. It far surpasses either — is 
" up to date/' has all the modern improvements and the 
most pleasing environments. They let go everything els©, 
eagerly seize it, and cherish it a little while ; theai it must go 
to pay their debts, and they blushingiy, but thankfully, ac- 
cept a back room in the humble old cottage home. Yonder 
is the picture of another charming home ; but — look ! — it is 
embraced in flames, and in a few moments the result of a life 
of honest toil is notliing but a little pile of ashes. 

Another bubble says : " With all yonr getting, get riches. 
Follow me; I will lead you to a mine of gold." Some one 
chases, but finds the dazzling material to be only yellow 
sand. "All that glitters is not gold." He pursues another 
"gold bug" (gold bubble). This one is true to its la- 
bel. Things turn to money at his touch. He gathers 
it; hoards it; tears down his banks and builds greater. 
Finally he is summoned to that other country, the land of 
spirits; tries hard to arrange otherwise, obtains all the 
aid he can, and pleads with the messenger to release him 
from the obligation; but he must go. Hurriedly collect- 



12 Heiarthstone; Kchoks. 

ing as much of his wealth as possible, he starts with it ; drags 
it along until he reaches the banks of the deep, turbid river ; 
checks his baggage ; and — " 'No, no ! " exclaims the Cap- 
tain. " You cannot bring that heiavy baggage on board ; it 
would sink the boat." " Then I pray thee, Captain, let 
me stay witli it." " No, noi ! You are my captivei, and 
the time is up. AH aboard ! " And the despondent man 
crosses death's river, leaving his possessions on this side to 
be a " bone of contention " — only bubbles, which burst at 
least as soon as they touch death's chilly tide. 

What striking similarity between many of life's achieve- 
ments and soap bubbles! Both reflect outward light and 
beauty ; both are perishable ; both often paint bright visions 
of a golden future in some far-away land; both often 
bring disappointment. Frequently a young man works 
hard, earns money, and spends much of it for indulgences 
that take the gilt edge from his cultured character and blunt 
his finer feelings, while the re^mainder slips from, his grasp 
and disappears. Wealth and fame are often obtained 
through bloodshed and tyranny, and many have chased fleet- 
ing pleasures to their own destruction. They had better 
have been sitting on the floor making soap bubbles. 

The little boy greatly admires the many beautiful col- 
ors of his toy balloons, and who does not? But let him 
catch some of them and weigh them ; what are they now ? 
Many of life's most brilliant phases prove to be mere bub- 
bles, but there is a place where we may store our treasures 
and they will never vanish. 



Chasing Bubbi,es. 13 

Each of these tiny glohes has a sweet missioin, after all. 
It reflects a beauty and sublimity that should inspire the 
desponding heart with courage and hope, and seems to say : 
" If I, only a fleeting bubble, bursting at the slightest jostle, 
can display the hand of love and power divinei, how ?nuch 
more is required of you, men of little faith ! " 

The articles in this volume may be regarded as mere bub- 
bles floating through the balmy atmosphere of more solid 
literature. Then I shall try not to paint on them visionary 
pictures calculated to lead the mind astray. I would like 
to paint thereon a miniature rainbow to entertain some 
child, and thus teach him the bubble's mission. I vwuld 
like to convince him that the color of the bubblei called 
" life " depends largely upon the rays of light thrown on it; 
that if it appears too dark, it needs to be placed in higher 
light. If these articles, though transient bubbles, may but 
serve this purpose; if they may give some older person 
a few moments' pastime or cast a gleam of hopei over 
some discouraged and gloomy life; if from them, though 
dimly reflected, some one may catch a glimpse of the Sun 
of Eighteousness and the " ho'me of the blest," then I shall 
have my reward. 



Theee things with which we are too economical: Kind 
words, appropriate smiles, charities. Three things with 
which we are too extravagant : Money, time, tongue. 



14 Hearthstonb Echoks. 

THE GREAT MIRROR, 

Many pleasures and advantages and somei disadvantac^es 
are derived from the conunon looking-glass, even thei small 
pocket mirror. Where there is beauty of complexion or 
features it is sure to be observed; therefore some individ- 
uals give the mirror considerable attention. But — lo ! — ■ 
on the other hand, imperfection of face or toilet is just as 
perfectly reflected ; and, sad to say, with most of us the lat- 
ter predominates. We would be much better pleased with 
ourselves if all mirrors would flatter. Even the color of 
eyes or hair is thus shown: and if we have neglected hair, 
teeth, or toilet in general, our mirror will inform us of the 
fact. 

" Smile at the world, and it smiles back at you ; frown 
at it, and it frowns in return." Thus the world is a great 
looking-glass. 

Beyond the deep waters there is a certain hall with a 
magnificent painting overhead, the work of some European 
artist. Many people visit this hall and feast their eyes for 
hours on the grandeur of the work, continually finding soinc'- 
thing new and attractive tO' admire; but the eyes grow 
weary and the head aches froan so long gazing upward. 
Some one devised a plan for relieving this difiiculty. An 
immense mirror was placed on the floor, so persons could 
look into it and see the great beauties of the elegant paint- 
ing overhead. Thus with life. Erom the beauties and 
grandeur of earth we can form some idea of the glories of 
the eternal " home of the blest." Our powers of vision are 



The) Great Mirror. 15 

too short to reach them ; but God has kindly placed cm his 
footstool a wonderful mirror^, into which we can look and 
see beautifully reflected the indescribable elegance of the 
glory land. The more we gaze into this great reflect- 
ing medium, the more we see in the upper world to ad- 
mire. 

The mirror is also a reflector of character. Have you told 
a falsehood ? Go' to the looking-glass on your dreeser, look 
straight into your own face, and ask yourself : " Who am 
I, guilty of such a grievous fault ? " Repeat your own 
name, while looking at yourself, and see if you are not 
ashamed of it ; then go to that greatest of all mirrors, your 
Bible, and there see how your falsehood looks. Have you 
taken that which belongs to another ? View yourself in 
this great mirror, see the flushes on your cheeks, then watch 
yourself turn pale at the thought. Have you wronged your 
neighbor ? Are you an extortioner ? Have you required 
usury ? Have you oppressed the widow and the or- 
phan ? Examine closely your character as reflected from 
God's never-failing mirror, and see if you are contented 
with it Have you taken the Lord's name in vain ? Have 
you been guilty of drunkenness ? Have you sold whisky ? 
Are you still selling it;, even on the sly? Do you in any 
way encourage any one to partake^ of the sparkling bever- 
age of woe ? The Bible will show you your picture. Look 
at it ! It is not merely a " proof " entitling you to another 
" sitting " ad libitum. It is the finished work of the great 
Artist, showing your exact features ; it is lifelike. 



1 6 Hearthstone Echoes. 

If we will stand before the Bible mirror as we stand be- 
fore the ordinary looking-glass, feeling as much interest in 
it, we will see not only our good traits, but also our eirrors, 
follies, and sins, which we did not realize we had until we 
thus examined ourselves. Frequently we think we see a 
mote or cinder in our neighbor's eye and want to kindly re- 
move it for him ; but by looking closely into this holy mir- 
ror we find, to our utter astonishment, it is a beam in our 
own eye. The reason we do not find it sooner is that we 
will not look closely into the mirror. It is strange that we 
can see our own good qualities better than those of others, 
while to us the faults of others are made so prominent and 
to many of our oiwn we are blind. 

An imperfect mirror invariably makes an imperfect re- 
flection. In a small room in the " Moorish Palace," at the 
World's Fair, there were arranged in some comical and com- 
plicated way a vast number of mirrors, reflecting just that 
many images of each individual. These images were of 
various sizes, shapes, and proportions; and the result 
was a comical confusion, for no one could recognize 
his own face or figure — sometimes etxceedingly long and 
slender, sometimes short and " dumpy," like the " brown- 
ies," and with mouth like that of an alligator. In another 
room the mirrors were so arranged as to cause a very few 
persons to appear like a large concourse of peoplei One 
woman cried out that she was about to suffocate, and asked 
to' be quickly removed from that densely-crowded room, 
when it was positively known by her friends at the door that 



The) Great Mirror. 17 

she was the only individual in the rooim. Ano'thea* trou- 
ble about these complications was that when an individual 
tried tO' get out of the room he was fully as apt. tO' gO' farther 
in, for the reflections would bewilder him so he could not 
know which way he was going. 

So if we try tO' see our true character reflected from va- 
rious and complicated mirrors, we are siu-e to receive dis- 
torted views — too broad or too long, one-sided, or in some 
way out of proportion. Sometimes the more we try 
by these bewildering reflections to get out intO' the true light, 
the more tangled we become, until we appeal to- the true 
guide. Our great spiritual mirror is free from spots and 
dust and waving blemishes, and is fully guaranteed by the 
firm from which we obtained it — the great and reliable Arm 
of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

, When about ready to start anywhere, we, as a rule, go 
before the mirror to see if our toilet is properly arranged. 
So when about to pass from earth to the next lif e^ we should 
stand before the mirror of God's truth and see if we are 
ready. We may think our spiritual toilet is properly ad- 
justed, but on close examination we may find some very 
important changes to be made. 

Again, we should not wait too long before making this 
eLsamination, for som-etimes we have nO' time to prepare 
just before starting. We may not know the train of death 
is due until it arrives at our station^ for this train runs 
on a peculiar schedule. It is too late to make our arrange- 
ments after it comes, and we cannot at our pleasure wait 



1 8 Hbarthstonb Echoes. 

for another train ; but as we have livedo so must we die and 
appear before the great Judge. 

Reader, are you prepared to die ? Go to that greatest of 
mirrors and seei. 



THE **LOST SCHOOLHOUSE.*' 

I FOEMED its acquaintance in the long agoi, when, Dun- 
lap, Tenn., was a tiny infant, cradled in the beautiful vale 
of Sequatchie. The " Lost Schoolhouse " was old enough 
to be mother, perhaps grandmother, of the village. It was 
doubtless the alma mater of some who helped tO' build the 
little toAVUj which is situated on the highway from Jasper 
to Pikeville. Its name was very appropriate, as it was ait^ 
uated some distance from the public road and was hidden 
therefrom by a dense forest. A well-beaten path led 
thereto from the public road; but at times was ob- 
structed by fallen limbs, pine needles, and oak leaves. 
When the " lost " was f ound_, it was in a very small sedge 
field near tlie " Dividing Ridge^" which runs north and 
south throughout the beautiful valley between and parallel 
with the Cumberland Mountain and Walden's Ridge. 

Around that house still cluster many pleasant memories. 
I well remember its appearance. It w'as> not a modern 
building. ISTothing was said of its Gothic roof; its. cor- 
ridors, balconies, museums, libraries ; its spacious halls ; its 
" up-to-date " folding desks ; its opera chairs ; for it was 
simply a " little old log cabin [not] in the lana" Its 



The "Lost Schooi<house." 19 

** stick-and-cla J " chimnej was " tumbling down ; " its 
rough-board roof was almost " caving in." Its benches were 
rustic in the superlative degree — long, splintery punch- 
eons, or split logs, with small, round hickory posts run 
through auger holes, elevating th.6 seats so high that we little 
folks had to keep our feet swinging to and fro to keep them 
from " going to sleep," as we had nothing on which to rest 
them while for hours long and weary we daily went over our 
b-a, bas; a-b, abs. The surroundings were enclianting. 
Dense forests that had never been disturbed by the wood- 
man's ax were made cheery by nature's sweet " winged 
ehoir ; " and now and then were seen a fleet-footed rabbit 
jumping across the path, a squirrel fleeing from us and 
seeking refuge among the leafy boughs of the trees, and — 
need I say? — occasionally a hideous serpent trailing its 
lowly length in the dust in front of us or hissing at us from 
the roadsida Springs of clear water, sparkling and pure, 
gladdened the eyes and throats of thirsty children, while a 
rippling brooklet quietly wended its way over a gravelly bed, 
seeking the company of neighboring waters. Walden's 
Ridge was only a. few miles eastward, and from behind it 
the morning sun quietly climbed, walked proudly athwart 
the skies, then modestly retired beyond the tall Cumber- 
land Mountain, which looked down upon the " Lost School- 
house " from the west. 

As the school was near town and especially for the ben- 
efit of the town children, there was a large crowd of 
us in attendance, and a merrv crowd were we. Our little 



20 Hejarthstons Echoes. 

hearts always leaped with joy when our kind teacher an- 
nounced, " Recess ! " but when, two hours later, he called 
out, " Dinner ! " the hoys gave a simultaneous yell ; the 
girls, a modest (?) shout or shriek; and such a stampede 
— ^pellmell, helter-skelter over benches and each other, tear- 
ing our long-sleeved, homespun cotton aprons on the splintery 
benches, the larger children priding themselves in pinch- 
ing the little ones, pulling their hair, snatching off their 
" headbands," or treading on their shoeless toes with their 
own heavy, toeless shoes — just anything to make them cry, 
hoping they would receive a whipping, which would give the 
" big boys " something to laugh at, holding up their books 
so as to hide from the teacher their odd grimaces. But 
onward we rushed for bonnets, hats, and dinner baskets. 
Greedily and quickly as possible we swallowed our lunches, 
for " dinner time " meant two hours' solid fun. " Club- 
fist," "thimble," "hide and seek," "jail," "Ant'ny 
over," and " poor puss, I want your corner," were daily 
played with renewed animation; while for more violent 
exercise we girls engaged in " jumping the rope " (a grape- 
vine substitute), and the boys had a regular, old-fashioned 
" fox chase." One swift runnea- was the " fox ; " twO' or 
three were " hunters," yelling and blowing horns ; but most 
of the boys were " dogs," and such a set of barking hounds ! 
Grapevine swings and sappling horses admirably served the 
purpose of the trapeze and gymnasium of later days. The 
clever forests abounded in " scaly barks," chinquapins, 
chestnuts, persimmons, beechnuts, gooseberries, and huckle- 



The "Lost SchooIvHousk." 21 

berries to gladden the eye and tongue of the school child, 
whose relish for eating always stands next to that for 
play. We were also a jolly band of little musicians, and 
how we could and did sing, especially on our way home! 
" Blow Ye the Trumpet, Blow! " " From Greenland's Icy 
Mountains ; " " How Tedious and Tasteless the Hours ! '" 
and many other contemporary songs were sung at the top of 
our voices, until it secured to us that if the trumpet had 
then been blown loud enough to drown our music ( ?), its 
peals would have almost reached " Greenland's icy moun- 
tains " and " India's coral strand ; " yet the hours were by 
no means " tedious and 1 asteless." I imagine I can now 
hear the echo caused by Cumberland Mountain's catching 
the sound and sending it back to the " Dividing Ridge " 
whence it started. Talk about happiness ! Look among a 
throng of innocent children, like we were, and you will find 
nothing else. Why should we have beeai othervdse? We 
had no care, except to be careful not to fall and break our 
milk bottles, which we intended to sink in the bubbling 
spring until dinner time, and our mothers had long since 
taught us that if such accidents should happen we should 
not " grieve over spilt milk." It had never entered our 
minds that progressive ideas would ever make it possible 
for children to learn any faster than we; and if any one 
had spoken to us about such studies as algebra, philosophy, 
rhetoric, or astronomy, we would have thought they belonged 
to a post-graduate course, or some other course we had never 
heard of. 



22 HEARTHSTONE ECHOES. 

On our way we passed a large., open field, a free pasture 
for the town cattle. Each prominent member of the soci- 
ety of " milch kine " wore a badge., which we called a " bell," 
and each child could readily designate the tone of his cow's 
bell. We called our cow "Muley." She was large, red, horn- 
less, and somewhat vicious. I can prove the latter statement 
by a slight scar on my nose. When she lifted me over the 
fence one evening, she failed to warn me of the rocks on the 
other side; but I excuse her now, tho'iigh I was not willing 
to do so then. Suffice it to say I am still afraid of a cow 
without horns. Well^ really, I treat all cows with becom- 
ing courtesy when I chance to meet them, on the street. If 
they prefer the sidewalk, the middle of the street will answer 
my p'Urpose, mud or no mud. It seems to me that I could 
distinguish the- clear, sweet tone of old " Muley's " bell to- 
night, were I to hear it among a hundred. It did not sound 
quite so sweet to me while she was helping me over the 
fenc«, however, as it always did in thei pasture near the 
" Lost Schoolhouse." Frequently some of the little boys 
would drive their cows home as they went from school; 
then what music we would have — the jingle of cow 
bells — some of the tones, coarse; some, fine; school- 
boys' yells — loud, louder, loudest; schoolgirls' songs — 
high, higher, highest ! !N^o wonder nature took up the 
chorus and reverberated it from cliff to cliff along the 
mountain side. Had Walden's Ridge been a little nearer, 
it would also have shared the pleasure as the songs and 
shouts of merriment glided over the laughing waters 



The "Lost Schoolhouse;." 23 

of the Sequatchie Eiver and threw back kisses at the 
happv little throng. The sparrow's chirp, the jay's cry, 
the whip-poor-will's call, the dove's plaintive cooing, the 
frog's croak, the serpent's hiss, the lion's roar, the panther's 
scream, the locomotive's whistle, would have had poor show- 
ing amidst our noisy throng. Even the teacher sometimes 
needed much sympathy, especially the last day of the ses- 
sion, when he had to give the school a candy " treat " or 
receive a blessing — no, a ducTcing. How well I remember 
the day we chased Mr. Deakens nearly all over the woods, 
through blackberry patches and jungles of alder, swamp 
dogwood and hazelnut bushes; made him fall over logs, 
jump fences ; and tried to run him into a large pond ! He 
promised us the " treat." I can now almost see that im- 
mense bundle of gay-striped stick candy, which " fairly be- 
wildered and dazzled our eyes " (and mouths) as he kindly 
divided it among us. These were our " commemcement 
exercises." 

Tears have glided by, and where — O, where — are those 
merry lads and lasses ? Whare is my kind teacher ? Where 
are my schoolmates, my playmates, my classmates ? Where 
are the Eliots, Ootens, Phelpses, Smiths, Cains, Hatfields, 
McDonoughs, Stuarts, Hoards, Vaughts, Alleys, Johnsons, 
W^alkers ? Their school days are over. Time has scattered 
them far and near. Many now have large, prosperous fami- 
lies, while others have sipped the dregs from poverty's bowl ; 
some occupy prominent positions in society; some, now 
sires and matrons, live in the same community (my kind 



24 Hearthstone Echoes. 

teacher among tiiat niunber) ; but where are the others ? 
Many — O, so many! — have passed over intO' the land of 
spirits. And where is the " Lost Schoolhonse ? " Echo 
faintly whispers, " Where 'i " It is lost to the world now, 
its charms, incidents, and surroundings living only in the 
memory of a spared few ; hut 

" . . . . dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood " 

and the sweet memories that still lovingly place me on their 
downy wings and tenderly carry me back to the little hut 
in the old sedge field. It served its purpose well. What 
■was learned there was learned to stay — no superficial smat- 
tering. The building remained faithful tO' duty until bet- 
ter ones in tlie community were ready tO' take its place. 
May each of us learn a lesson from this humble little cabin 
— a lesson of fidelity. May we be faithful to the mission 
assigned us, so that when our body, " the house we live in,'' 
shall give place to a more durable one and, like the " I^ost 
Schoolhouse," shall return to dust, we may at least leave 
pleasant memories for our friends who survive us. 



THE OLD PERSIMMON TREE. 

If trees could talk, I would call for the autobiography of 
a certain one I know. It stands between the " Lost School- 
house," in which some of my first school days were hap- 
pily spent, and the little to^vn in which we then lived. If 
it had a tongue and language to tell its own story, I am sure 



Tun O1.D Persimmon Tree. 25 

we would gladlj listen. It would tell of eclipses, of cy- 
clones, of droughts, of waterspouts, of snowstorms, of earth- 
quakes, of " wars and rumors of wars," until our minds 
would grow weary of its eloquence ; then it would give rest 
to our mental strain hy coaming down to common things — by 
telling us of the thousands of busy bees and many-tinted 
butterflies that have been fed from the sweetness of its blos- 
soms, of the many birds of gay plumage and sweet voice 
that have perched among its branches, and of the many 
happy children who have partaken of its luscious fruit. 

Its age I cannot tell, buti know it has been "yielding fruit 
after its kind " ever since;, and even before, the Civil (un- 
civil) War of the sixties. Both armies passed almost under 
its branches, for it stands beside the public road they traveled 
in passing through the valley. It showed no partialitj^', 
was no prejudiced politician, was " no respecter of persons," 
hence gave of its sweet fruit alike to the " boys " of the 
blue and of the gray who at different times were encamped 
around it. Hundreds of its neighbor trees were cut down 
to make fires under the " camp kettles " and to warm the 
aching feet of " somebody's darlings " far away from home 
and mother. It was present when the glad tidings of peace 
joyfully resounded throughout the shady vale, gladdening 
the hearts of Sequatchie's noble daughters, sisters, wives, 
and mothers by indicating a safe return of their dear 
ones who had not met death on the blood-stained battle- 
field. Since then many other hundreds of trees have been 
felled by the woodman's ax to warm the inhabitants and 



26 Hearthstone Echoes. 

cook their food or to feed the sawmill's greedy tooth; some 
have been uprooted "by the tornado's breath ; fields have been 
cleared near it on either side; but, somehow, it has been 
spared— why, we cannot tell ; but we could easily tedl why 
we would spare it: as a cherished relic of olden times as 
well as for its usefulness. 

There is something peculiar about this tree. Its fruit, lus- 
cious and abundant, has never been known, I believe, to pro- 
duce a seed. When, as a tiny schoolgirl, I trudged along to 
the " Lost Schoolhouse," this tree, then small, but fruitful, 
was exactly on our way ; and during the season that 'possums, 
persimmons, and " fatty bread " were abundant we children 
showed this tree great respect by daily stopping and cheer- 
fully partaking of its offered hospitality ; and I well remem- 
ber one thing that added to the interest was searching for 
seed, one man having offered a dollar for one that was well 
matured. It became rumored that this tree produced seed- 
less fruit, which increased the curiosity to investigate. More 
than thirty years have passed since the cloee of the war be- 
tween the States ; a reign of " peace on earth, good will to- 
ward men," has blessed our beleved America ; but, judg- 
ing by appearance, not much peace has this tree enjoyed. 
Though willing to give up all its treasures as fast as ma- 
tured, the greedy passer-by has impatiently and ruthlessly 
beaten, bruised, and scarred it for its very work's sake. 
The hand of persecution has fallen heavily upon it; the 
tooth of time has gnawed in it great holes. Seven years 
ago, while visiting the little town near by, my husband 



Ths OivD Persimmon Tree. 27 

and I made a special call to see mj good old friend, 
the persimmon tree, l^eed I have been surprised at not 
recognizing this dear old chum of the long ago? ITei their 
did it seem to fully remember me ; for when introduced by 
one of my lady friends after a separation of a quarter of a 
century, it only bowed its aged head modestly in the gentle 
breeze and said not a word. Who can wonder at its not 
recognizing me? I do not look exactly like I did when, 
as a wee schoolgirl, I wended my way to the " Lost School- 
housa" My face is not so fair as then; my hair does not 
hang in black ringlets around my neck as it did wheal, at 
the age of seven or eight years, I skipped along on " light, 
fantastic toe," with lunch bucket, a pint bottle of sweet milk 
(to be placed in the cold waters of the bubbling spring until 
dinner), McGuffey's second reader, and Webster's blue- 
backed speller. 

The hand of progress has wrought wonderful works 
in that part, of the country, as shown by the railroads and 
many new towns which have been built in the interest of the 
immense wealth of iron and coal ; but what of our persim- 
mon tree? Like an unshaken crag on a mountain side, it 
has braved the storms of these many years; and though 
dingy, scarred, and bruised, it stands firm and continues 
faithful to duty. The Savior's eulogy on the humble woman 
beautifully applies to this tree : " She hath done what she 
could." 

As the tree' casts off its foliage tO' battle with the wintry 
blasts, lest the additional weight should overcome it, so man 



28 Hearthstone Kchoes. 

must lay aside many of his superfluous ideas and habits in 
order to successfully battle with the rough conveaitionali- 
ties of life. This tree gives fruit to its cruel oppressors. 
What a lesson to us — not " railing for railing : but contrari- 
wise blessing ! " It " overcomes evil with good ; " for the 
harder it is beaten, the more freely it showers its blessings 
on the earth. Sometimes the harder Christians are perse^ 
cuted, the more they bless the world with spiritual fruit; 
and " by their fruits ye shall know them." 

Many trees will not give up their fruit unless it is beaten 
off, but will cling to it until it " dries up " and becomes 
useless. There is a class of so-called "Christians" who cling 
with great tenacity to what little spiritual fruit they pos- 
sess until it is "f railed" off with rods of persecution ; then it 
is like the seedless persimmon — ^very good to the taste and 
sight, but with no inclination whatever to propagate good 
fruits to benefit others. They desire to be fruitful, but per- 
suade themselves that charity belongs at home. The rays 
of their spiritual lamp shine brightly enough at home (un- 
der the bushel), but scarcely ewer reach the hearthstone of 
a poor, dejected neighbor, or even the church house, unless 
the pulpit is that day to be occupied by some great or flow- 
ery speaker. To the Sunday school and prayer meeting 
their lamp is a " dark lantern," with the dark side foremost 
so it cannot light their way. 

The reason some church members do not benefit any one 
by their fruit is because they are so' much like " other trees " 
(like the world) that no fruit is expected of them; and 



The; Old Persimmon Trke. 29 

hence they are not beaten, not persecuted. Listen. I The 
sure way to keep from being " persecuted for Christ's sake " 
is to walk hand in hand with the world; keep your light 
hidden, and no one will once suspect that you are a child of 
God. 

The tree we are considering is now very largo, old, 
weather-beaten, rough, and ugly; but pleasant associations 
clustering around it make it still attractive. A person may 
be scarred, rough-featured, tanned, and homely; yet- to 
the eyes and hearts of love he can be fair and beautiful 
still, made so by agreeable disposition and continued use- 
fulness. This tree top is somewhat out of proper shape, 
limbs having died and fallen therefronu In old age the 
mind, supported by a feeble, afflicted body, may lose many 
of its most fascinating charms and not be so well balanced 
as in days gone by. When this persimnjon tree shall be- 
come too infirm to yield fruit, it will by some be cherished 
for old times' sake; when a good and useful person has be- 
come too old and feeble tO' do active labor, he will still be 
loved, cherished, and tenderly cared for on account of good 
done in the past and for the sake of sweet associations. As 
an old, reliable " landmark," the aged Christian stands, 
as it were, with outstretehed arms, one hand pointing back 
over a long and well-spent life, the other hand pointing for- 
ward across the rapid river to a blissful eternity, where the 
hand of infinite love is sweetly beckoning: " Come home." 

Later. — A message reaches me that this famous old tree 
has finished its work — it is dead. A piece of its bark now 



30 Hkarthstone Echoes. 

lies on my table — sent to me as a memento^ like a lock of 
hair from a departed friend. Two years ago (1900) it 
yielded fruit as usual;, tlien died witk the century. It faith- 
fully served its community until time placed a heavy fing'er 
on its veins and caused the life current to forever cease to 
flow. Long will it live in the memory of a " spared few " 
of the sons and daughters of the fair Sequatchie Yale, and 
from it may we all impress the lesson of faithfulness. 



MRS. SMITH'S CHIP BASKET. 

Mrs. Smith has a chip basket. It is a hom.ely, common- 
place little article; but is right useful. It contains large 
chips and small chips ; long chips and short chips ; new chips 
and old chips ; tliick, broad, straight chips and thin, narrow, 
crooked chips; rough, ugly, dusty chips and smooth, preitty, 
clean chips. This basket makes a poor show, but it has an 
advantage: not very much is expected of it. Some of its 
contents are very good, but in too small pieces to amount 
to much ; and when she begins to take them out, she is ut- 
terly astonished at the great quantity of trash in the basket. 

This queer chip basket is Mrs. Smith's mind, filled with 
all sorts of trash — nothing of much importance. The cause 
of this odd accumulation is her varied experience — her 
sho'rt-lived employments. It is somewhat after this fash- 
ioa: Mrs. Smith has a large number of tissuei-papen" pat- 
iems to place together in complicated form. She is ar- 
ranging them on the bed very cautiously, with studied care, 



Mrs. Smith's Chip Basket. 31 

precision, and thought. It is diflEicult tO' place them inst 
right, and much depends upon her doing sO'. Kow she has 
more than half of them properly adjusted — notches to fit. 
Some one suddenly raises the window ; a puff of wind 
blows all the patterns off the bed. Woman disappointed, time 
wasted; the work must be done over. But — loi! — some of 
the most important patterns have been blown into the fire — 
are gone, and cannot be replaced. (So much for that chip. ) 
She begins to write an important letter ; is inte^rrupted 
once, twice, thrice. There ! the train has gone ; it is toO' late 
to send it. (Another chip ! ) She concentrates her thoughts 
on a certain theme and tries to formulate, ideas which she 
hopes will be upbuilding to moral and spiritual character ; 
but by the time the " muses " begin to settle thick around 
her, some foreign element " shoos " them away, and they 
refuse to return. (What a chip!) 

IS'ow, do not begin to ask who Mrs. Smith is; you are 
well acquainted with her. She is your neighbor — and a 
good one, too. You remember her husband passed into the 
land of spirits two and one-half years ago, leaving this deli- 
cate little woman to tread life's uneven path without his 
strong and willing arm. to lean upon. So she is having a 
hard time trying to make a comfortable living for four 
little children, to rear and educate them properly, and has 
tried several avocations. True, she has many kindred 
scattered around, who seem in deep sympathy with her and 
help her considerably — ^that is, they come to. see her often 
and help make way with what little she earns by daily toil. 



32 He;arthstone Echoes. 

When she manages to get a new supply of provisions, they 
somehow (or some other how) right then manage to 
be without and thoughtfully borrow ( ? ) part of 'he7'S, 
lest they spoil on her hands. They dislike to see food 
wasted these "hard timee/' you know; so they help Ker 
take care of hers — in a Jiurry. She decides to take a few 
paying boarders, thinking they will be more profitable in a 
pecuniary sense than her nonpaying ones ; but the number in ' 
the nonpaying class sO' far exceeds the other class that the 
profit is devoured in the ratio of "sixteen to one" — six- 
teen consumers to one provider. Strange to say, she gives 
up the boarding business as unprofitable. (A great, big, 
rusty chip !) 

She next tries school-teaching, and hires some one to keep 
house and take care of her children through the day. Dur- 
ing her absence her " kinsfolk and acquaintance^ " feel it 
their special duty, as well as pleasure, to see closely after 
" the poor, lonely little children, whose dear mother is off 
working for tliem ; " so several of them come daily, and 
often make it convenient to dine with the new housekeeper, 
who, of course, must treat them right and prepare the best 
meal possible, because they are relatives and dear friends 
of " Mrs.. Smith, the school-teacher." Others come late in 
the afternoon, and decide' to wait until after supper, so' they 
will get tO' see Mrs. Smith and hear from her school. They 
sincerely hope and pray she is o'ettiufl: along nicely, and feel 
'so sorry she has to work so hard to make a living for her 
poor little orphan children. " Poor woman ! She deserves 



Mrs. Smith's Chip Baske;t. 33 

so much credit." And credit is all she gets from these con- 
suming sympathizers. (More chips!) But the said Mrs. 
Smith sees clearly that the overmuch sympathy will not 
only swallow her salary, hut will also spoil her children; 
so she decides to select some employment that will enable 
her to stay at home with them. She has been reared to 
work, and can earn an honorable living for her little family 
if not interfered with. She tacks up her sign, " Dress- 
maker," and soon has plenty to do and gives general satisfac- 
tion. In a little while, however (as soon as her work becomes 
known as first-class), these selfsame " beloved friends " and 
others just as dear bring her more work than she can do. 
Of course she is not expected to charge her own dear '' kin- 
folks " anything; could not think of doing that — is only too 
glad to accommodate them; and will work for her neigh- 
bors at half price. Eemember, these are the very individ- 
uals who snee-red when she put up her " Dressmaker " sign ; 
they said she could not make dresses " fitten for a cook to 
wear." (A three-cornered chip!) Sometimes the poor 
woman becomes confused and nervous^ and feels like her 
brain is turning around like a whirligig or flutter mill, and 
that it is as insignificant as a basket of chips. 

She now has her lap full of sewing, carefully placed as 
she wants it. The " baby boy " suddenly screams in the 
back yard, as if he had cut off his toe. She, motherlike, 
dashes her work on a chair and runs, finding that the old 
hen has robbed the child of his biscuit ; then she returns to 
her work, which must be finished in limited time (persons 



34 HEARTHSTONE KCHOES. 

are often very exacting of a dressmaker). Where is her 
thimble ? Her needle is lost ; her scissors are lying on the 
hearth, with the point broken off; her spool of silk thread 
has rolled into the fire. She must call little Sallie to mn 
hastily to the store for more thread. Sallie, nnfoirtunately, 
has a leak in her memory ; brings white silk thread instead 
of blue; must go back up town — woefully against her will, 
of course. But the lady is waiting for her dress, and Mrs. 
Smith must complete it before the evening train. Sallie 
loiters a little while in toiwn, looking anxiously at the beau- 
tiful bisque dolls and lace fans in that large show window, 
wondering what rich man's little daughters will soon hap- 
pily possess them; she then returns with the thread, and 
her mother's work is eagerly resumed. 

" Ein-g-ng-ng ! " goes the doorbell. 

" Eun to the door, Sallie ! " 

Sallie runs. "It is Mrs. Haste, mamma. She wants 
to borrow the latest designer. She is in a big hurry, and 
cannot eome in." 

" Well, take it to her, dearie." 

" Good morning, Mrs. Smith ! O no ! Keep your seat ; 
I cannot stay a minute. I hate to bother you, but am wor- 
ried to death about my new dress and want you tO' advise me 
a little. Tell me all about how to make it ; you can tell me 
in a minute ; then I must go. I must not take a minute of 
your time, for I cannot imagine how you can possibly get 
that work done to-day, anyway; but I just must have my 
drees done by Sunday, for I have no dress fit to wear to 



Mrs. Smith's Chip Basket. 35 

churcli, and have already stayed away two Suadays on ac- 
count of not having any. I want something new and 
stylish, something to correspond with my new hat. O, 
yon just ought to see that ! It is perfectly lovely — the cutr 
est thing, and so becoming; hut I have had it two weeks 
and could not wear it for want of a new dress to correspond. 
If I do not hurry, it will go out of style before I get to wear 
it, after all." 

Exactly forty-seven minutes are consumed in planning, 
showing, and discussing Bon-Ton and Buttrick styles ; then, 
after the usual womanly " Much obliged, good-by, come to 
see me; " '^ I will, you come back; " " Thank you, I will, 
you be sure to come, good-by," Mrs. Haste takes her de- 
parture. (Blessed chip!) 

Poor Mrs. Smith, wondering what gave her such a horri- 
ble nightmare, resumes her work with wearied form and 
anxious expression. She is now making the machine fairly 

" Tingle-ingle-ingle ! " 

" Telephone ! Eim, SaUie ! " 

" Tingleringle-ingle-ing-ing-n-n-g ! " 

" Eun to the 'phone, Sallie ! Sal-lie-cre ! 'Phone, Sal- 
lie!" 

But Sallie has skipped off to take care of Bob, and Mrs. 
Smith has to answer it herself. 

" Plalloo, Mrs. Smith ! This is your friend, Mrs. Wise. 
I just want to know if I can borrow your very latest sleeve 
pattern, and if you can send it over by your little girl, as I 



36 • Hearthstone Echoes. 

haven't a single soul to send for it and need it right now. 
I dislike to trouble you, for I know kow you are rusked 
with work to-day; but you are always so good you do not 
mind doing a little thing like that; and then Sallie — dear 
little soul! — it is only fun for her to run over hero and 
back." 

After nervously listening to a ten-minute jabbering 
over the 'phone from a woman whose intellect poorly har- 
monizes with her name, Mrs. Smith hunts up the pattern, 
then Sallie; then she must take care of " Baby Bob " and 
try to sew until the pattern is carried across, town to Mrs. 
Wise. In the meantime she answers the 'phone f oiur times, 
feeds two tramps, and is entertained (?) by a " picture 
man," a traveling optician, and a book agent trying to sell 
a book on " Child Training " written by an old maid. 
Sweet little Sallie, childlike, lets her memory leak again; 
forgets that her mamma urged her to' " come back as quick 
as possible ; " stops, both going and coming, to gaze a while 
at the coveted treasures in that wonderful show window, 
each time spying new beauties which gain her admiration 
and consume her time. But she returns and takes charge 
of little Bob again. The older children have not returned 
from school. 

" Rap, rap, rap ! " 

" Some one at the kitchen door ! Eun, Sallie ! " 
" Gude ebenin' ! Say, is dat ar dress done ? Ole miss 
'Say she has ter start tO' de train in half hour, and has tei 
w'ar dat very frock ; dat dis am three times she's sent fur 



Unequally Yoked. 37 

it, an' can't wait a minit longer. Who-ee ! Ize run so fas* 
my breath's gone back on ma" 

So Uncle Simon stands at tlie door puffing and blo'wing, 
mopping his face with his old bandanna, and fanning with 
his broad-brimmed straw head shelter until the last two 
hooks and eyes are sewed on the dress and the bundle is hur- 
riedly pinned up and handed to him. 

" Gude ebenin', missus ! But, say. Ize 'bout ter furgit 
to tell yer. Ole miss sed tell yer yer'd haf ter wait on her 
fur de money tell she gits back; dat it 'ud take eb'ry cent 
she had — an' mo', too — to make dat big trip to Wash'ton, 
'Nu Ork, Mger Falls, Buff'lo, and all dem big places to see 
de big show; but dat she'd pay yer jist as soon as she gits 
back home, ef she has any money lef ' ; dat it's a good debt 
eben ef it's neber paid." And off goes Uncle Simon in a 
hurry. 

Somehow, by this time Mrs. Smith has a kind of wearied 
look. Do you wonder that her mind is like a chip basket ? 



UNEQUALLY YOKED, 
I. 

ChildeeN;, be quiet, please, and listen to a short story 
founded on truth. Little Master Idleby and little Miss 
Domore were near neighbors in their baby days, he only a 
few months her senior. " Idleby " was only a pet name, 
or nickname, being a contraction of " idle boy," and was 
at first applied with hope of reforming the child of his 



38 HEARTHSTONE ECHOES. 

thoughtless, idle habits, through disgust. In early child- 
hood these two began to show evidence of unusual at- 
tachment for each other. In school they preferred sitting 
side by side, reading from the same book, standing by each 
other at the blackboiard, eating their noonday lunches to- 
gether, and being partners in the various games. Teach- 
ers and students wondered at their apparent congeniality, 
for they were entirely different types of humanity. He, 
though fully her equal in general mental capacity, was lack- 
ing in resolution, as was shown by his being entirely will- 
ing to receive assistance from her ready hand and mind 
instead of preparing his lessons by means of his own brain, 
which was stupid only from want of exercise^ 

As they fast climb into their middle teens, seek an oppor- 
tunity, if you please, and peep into their private home lives. 
Watch, listen ! Perhaps you may ascertain, on general 
principles, why the boy is willing to receive help on his les- 
sons; also why the girl is willing and thoroughly capaci- 
tated to give the coveted aid. Eirst, visit the little girl's 
home. Go early. You find her up and doing, as her name 
indicates. She is bright and happy, busily helping her 
mother with the morning work and singing a merry tune. 

" K"ow, daughter, go, get ready for school," enjoins the 
mother. 

" !N^o, mamma; I want to do more of the work first, so 
yon can rest. You look tired, and I must not leave too 
nauch for you to do." 

TText you are peeping into the boy's home, l^ow, Idle- 



Unequali^y Yoked. 39 

by's father died three years ago, and amon^ his last words 
to this boy were: " Son, be good tO' yonr delicatei mother. 
Help lier with her work all yo'U can, and see that she does 
not have a hard time. The other children are all too 
small to help her now. Be quick; be industrious; he a 
man! I repeat: always be good to your mother." !N^ow 
you may see how the dying father's admonition was car- 
ried out. 

" Wake up, Idleby, my son ! Get up quick and help 
your mamma ! You know we have nO' cook now, and T am 
not at all well. Make a fire in the stove and draw some 
water right quick, please." 

"All right, mamma ! " 

The aching, feeble woman hurriedly arranges her toilet 
and hastens to the kitchen. All is silence there. She goes 
back to the boy's room door. " Rap, tap, tap, rap! " 

" Son, are you 'most ready ? " 

'No reply. 

"Idleby, Idleby!" 

"Heh, ma'am!" 

" Make haste, boy ! I am waiting for my fire and water." 

" O, mamma, I'm so sleepy ! (I don't see why every- 
body don't keep a cook.)" 

Back to the kitchen the mother goes. She makes the fire, 
draws water, prepares breakfast; but not to the terror or 
disappointment of the boy (he has permitted her to do 
this before). Aroused by the breakfast bell, he gently 
stretches himself, yawns, gets up reluctantly, dresses slowly, 



4-0 Hearthstone Echoes. 

yawns frequently, and manages to find himself in the dining 
room in time to severely criticise the fare and ask if there 
are " any more warm biscuits." 

After breakfast he kindly asks his motlieir if sihe wants 
anything from town. Somehow, the average boy does 
not seriously object to going " up town." She tells him 
she wants several things from the grocery store, and also 
the mail, just as soon as she can get them. She then hands 
him the list and a basket, and urges that he shall Iiurry 
back, lest he be late at school. 

"All right, ma'am ! " and, scarcely waiting tO' receive or- 
ders, off he darts toward town. 

His name right now seems to be losing its significance as 
a contraction of " idle boy." Six hot biscuits, three cakes 
of sausage, butter and molasses in proportion, and two cups 
of strong, hot coffee have aroused him from his letliargy. 
He is wide awake, strong, and active now, and can almost 
fly to town. He is always quick enough at starting; his 
trouble comes afterwards. Soon he spies a blue jay in some- 
body's cherry tree and stops to cast a stone or two at it (and 
to sample the cherries). Then he sees Jim Baddy and 
Jack Wild chasing a rabbit; and, of course, common cour- 
tesy demands that he shall assist them. The rabbit soon 
disappears, and so does the boy; the latter, toward town 
with rapid steps, for his mother is in a hurry, you know. 
Mr. Toad hops out before him in a friendly way, and Idleby 
stops to tease him a while (idle boys like to tease). ISText, 
he sees a toy balloon ascending on the wings of the wind. 



UnequaIvI^y Yoked. 41 

He stops and watches it until it appears a mere sipeck in the 
skj, like a black pin head. 

Town at last ; groceries and mail secured ; a few innocent 
games played — pareheesi, crokinole, logomachy; a friendly 
cigarette; a little social chat; another cigaretta 

" Boys, I must go home ; mother is in a hig hurry for 
these things. Good-hy! See you later." 

Homeward bound he swiftly glides, with conscience light 
as his brain. This is not the first time hei has treated his 
mother thus ; so the strokes of his conscience fall less heav- 
ily than they once did. But on he goes, hurrying home- 
ward. 

"Just look! I'll declare! They are playing baseball, 
and I just must see that. It's a test game between our 
town boys and the ' nine ' from Idlewild, and I wouldn't 
miss it for a dollar. I'll put this basket of things right 
down here by this tree, where nothing will disturb it. My 
arm is tired of carrying it, anyway. I will go and .vatch 
the boys play a little while — just loug enough to rest my 
arm — then take the things right on to my mother. She 
will only think it took the clerk a long time to count the 
eggs and weigh the sugar." 

Off he darts to the ball ground. 

11. 

Moments unconsciously multiply and step back, until two 
long hours mark the time of his watching. The game, is 
ended ; " our nine " are miserably v/hipped (unfairly, of 



42 Hearthstone Echoes. 

course) ; Idleby^ sorry lie witnessed the defeat and very 
angry with the victorious opponents, resumes his journey 
home by way of the tree where he deposited his basket. 

"Just look where the sun is ! It is now after ten o'clock. 
I have missed my rhetoric lesson, sure; but I don't care. 
I didn't know it, anyway; and it is no advantage to me. 
I never expect to be a school-teiacher. It will soon be time 
for my algebra, and I haven't looked at it. The teacher- — 
but I know what I'll do : I'll sit right doT\'n by my girl, Miss 
Domore, and copy her eixamples, like I did yesterday. 
Then, I'll know they are correct, for she never makes a mis- 
take." 

He ai'rives at the tree. What a comical sight ! What a 
spectacle ! Four dozen eggs, a dollar's worth of sugar, 
three packages of soda, two ounces of pulverized black pep- 
per, one ounce of cayenne, a dozen bananas, a dozen cu- 
cumber pickles, a package of chocolate, a package of cocoa- 
nut, three bunches of celery, several letters and newspa- 
pers — all mixed on the ground in strange proportions ; all 
torn up, broken up, mashed up, chewed up, and a goodly 
portion " swallowed up; " while two large neighborly hogs, 
pufEng and blowing, are still busy, triumphantly mixing the 
ingredients with their noses, which are thoroughly white- 
washed with the soda and sugar, which novel paint is 
" there to stay," being securely glued by the egg mixture, 
giving it a golden tint, while the pepper will not soon per- 
mit their noses to become chilled. The friendly swine have, 
indeed, "wasted his substance with riotous living;" yet 



UNKQUAI.LY Yoke;d. 43 

they appear more thoughtful than he, for they seeon to real- 
ize that it is time the ingredients were being mixed ; in fact, 
it is entirely too late for his mother to' use them as she de- 
sired. This being his birthday, she intended surprising 
him with a splendid dining and having a sco^re or more of 
his special friends to be at his home awaiting his arrival 
from school at noon ; but her plans are all disappointed by 
his delay. This is but a fair sample of his happenings and 
mishappenings between the cradle and manhood. He ia 
prompt and fast at one thing, however ; that is time killing. 

Years move on. The characteristics and habits of their 
childhood cling to the young man and young woman ; and, 
regardless of the mde difference, this couple become ardent 
admirers, true lovers; and, decidedly against the better 
judgment of their parents and friends, before reaching 
their majority, Mr. Idleby and Miss Domore are united 
in marriaga Mysterious notion ! 

It is dolefully whispered around : " Unequally yoked ! " 
" She has driven her ducks to a dry market; " " What a 
downward step ! " " Didn't she manifest queer taste ? " 
Her only apology is that she loved him. ISTo doubt this is 
true, but could she not have learned to love a man worthy 
of her ? Marriage without love should never bei, but it is 
an erroneous idea of some young persons that tlie " first 
love " — the premature love of youth — must never be can- 
celed. In some instances " first love " proves genuine, but 
in many cases the " ideal " of childhood is far from being 
the ideal of the same mind when mature. It is a serious 



44 Hearthstone Echoes. 

mistake when persons marry Laving dispositions and ideas 
so different thej can never be harmonized. , Such can 
never be congenial conipanions; hence they can never be 
really happy, prosperousi, or useful. 

From a desirable home and from the advantages and lux- 
uries of her girlhood Mr. Idleby takes his bride to the 
dingy hut in which she is to be. the humble queen. IN"© 
king will rule there, but an indulged, spoiled, indolent man 
will " boss." But he often told her he would put away 
his childish habits when he married ; and she believed him, 
of course. Like too' many other good resolutions, his were 
made of weak material; so they soon break, and he natu- 
rally drifts back into the same old channel — has to be awak- 
ened two or three times every morning, dresses slowly, 
yawns as in boyhood, and goes to breakfast late., but in plenty 
of time to remind his wife that the biscuits are getting cold, 
the steak is tough, the butter is old, and the coffee is not 
half settled. He also gently ( ?) reminds her that his 
" good old mother " always kept his breakfast warm when 
he happened to sleep a little late. Occasionally he arouses 
her early, says he must have soon breakfast on account of 
his work, and faintly adds, " If I can help you, just call 
me; " then he gives vent to a dismal groan, turns over, and 
" drops off to sleep " again. As a rule, when a man says 
that, it is equivalent to saying, " Do without me if you 
can ; " for he knows she is not apt to call him. 
, ISTever were two persons more unequally yoked; and, 
what makes it seem so mysterious, they hnew they were en- 



UnequalIvY Yokkd. 45 

tirely di-fferent, having been reared together. She is (luick, 
practical, skillful, economical, tidy, industrious, intellectual, 
refined, cultured ; he is slow, sensitive, pettish, and requires 
continual petting, and, altho>ugh extravagant, is very untidy 
in appearance. (Is it not strange that those who spend the 
most money on their toilet are often farthest from being 
neat ?) If he goes on errands oi speed, he forgets when to 
come back. He does not forget to find fault, however, 
though he is a very poor provider. He wants her to cook 
exactly what he likes best and exactly the way he wants it 
cooked — every time. He is a chronic old grumbler. Occu- 
pying his favorite corner in the little fireside circle, he 
smokes and chews and spits, and spits and chews and 
smokes, before eating, after eating, and between meals, to 
the thorough disgust of any tidy, refined woman. In the 
strictest sense of the term, he " boards with his wife," but 
boards on credit. He spends enough money for tobaccO' to 
clothe her in silk, yet reminds her of the poverty of his 
pocketbook whenever she asks for fifty cents tO' have her 
last year's hat made over. He is sensitive as a mimosa 
brier, and " flies to pieces " as quick as a touch-me-not. He 
should be labeled, " Handle with Care ; " for if you do not 
always approach him with greatest tenderness, his feelings 
will be ruffled and project like the quills of an angry porcu- 
pine. 

She has rare musical attainments, and there was a time 
when he appeared passionately fond of music, but since 
their marriage he has given her no encouragement what- 



46 Hearthstone Echoes. 

ever in this respect ; so, like most of married women, she has 
entirely gfiven it up. 

Thej are fully as unequally yoked in religious sentiment 
and practice. She finds sweet comfort in the precious 
promises of God's word, and, though a busy little woman, 
finds plenty of time for scriptural study and general read- 
ing. He, though a noted idler, a regular loafer, has no 
time for Bible study, and can never become interested in 
the " old book," anyway. It is always the busy person who 
finds time for mental development; an idler has no time 
for anything, sees no merit in any book. This man be- 
comes absorbed in some flimsy " ism ; " will not investigate 
the merits or demerits of anything, but either drifts with the 
current or takes some nonsensically-stubborn position, and 
stands like the rock of Gibraltar, regardless of sense', rea- 
son, or revelation. 

Death will call for this couple by and by. She will be 
ready. She stays in the fold of safety, is always ready. 
He has started to get. ready several times; at least he has 
said he knew it was his duty to become a Christian, did not 
intend to die out of the church, and was thinking about get- 
ting ready to make his arrangements to consider the mat- 
ter as soon as he was good enough and could finish his work 
and find time to read the Bible through and learn his duty. 
Poor man ! He is so' very slow his friends fear he will post- 
pone his preparation until the angel doorkeeper will an- 
nounce, " Too late ! " and then dose th.e door. 

Are you acquainted with this couple? 



Une;quali.y Yokkd. 47 

III. 

" Well, have you heard ' the latest ? ' " 

"l^o; what is it?" 

" Why, Miss Whimsey is married, at last ! " 

" Who. in the world ? I certainly feel sorry for the man 
who has assumed that burden. Poor fellow ! He will 
have his hands full. Pray tell me who is the unfortunate 
man." 

" Mr. Willing Indulgence." 

" I do wonder ! Poor man ! Wellj his namei sounds like 
he might have tlie will if he only has the power. I doubt 
his being equal to the emergency ; but it is his lookout, not 
mine. I am giad of that." 

ISTow^, Miss Pettie Whimsical has for a long time beeai a 
fruitful subject of neighborhood gossip. Being tlie baby 
and only daughter in a large family, she, unfortunately, 
was indulged in babyhood and girlhood until indulgence 
ceased to be a virtue. It is no longer a virtue when the 
receiver ceases to appreciate it — begins to expect more and 
more, to consider indulgence nothing more than her rights. 

Imagine you are spending a night with that family and 
sleeping, or trying to sleep, in a room adjoining the family 
room when " baby " is only a few months old. At noon of 
night the priceless jewel awakes and begins her usual tune, 
pitched in a high key. 

" By-e-e^e-e ! " sings the mother, half asleep; but her 
voice does not harmonize with the baby's voice; it is in a 
different kev. 



48 Hearthstone Echoes. 

" Father knows what his little girl wants," utters the 
deep, heavy voice of pateirnal affection; and he quickly 
arises and lights the lamp, for nothing else will please her. 

When she grows tired of looking at the light, her papa 
or mamma (this time her mamma) must get up and 
walk with her; for she is the baby girl, you know — the 
" firstest and onliest " one — and it will never do to^ let her 
cry. She likes walking, and is now all smiles.; but even 
mothers become tired of walking after a while on a cold 
night. " Eock, rock, rock ! " goes the little crib. " By-o- 
baby ! " sings the tired, sleepy mother ; for baby must not 
cry, you know. " Swing, swing ! " goes the little ham- 
mock; but she does not want to swing this time; she wants 
to be walked. Up jumps papa and puts her in her pretty 
buggy. The little old cradle sufficed for the boys, but they 
were boys ; she is a girl, and must have all the up-to-date 
conveniences. He draws thei buggy back and forth, back 
and forth, vio^lently across the floor, making a loud and lone- 
some roar. (Who could sleep in the next room ?) Even 
papa is growing weary of the fun. The child pitches her 
voice higher, still higher. 

" Hush ! Go to sleep, you little imp ! " 

" ISTow, papa ! " says his wife. 

Then he slightly coughs, twice only. "Alice, you will 
have to get up and do something with this child; she needs 
killing. She will give me a spell of la grippa I have 
already coughed my throat sore. I'm going to bed." 

The poor mother, with that dreadful headache caused by 



Unequai^ly Yokbd. 49 

exposure and frequent loss of sleep, has been, coughing and 
sneezing for an hour, and is now too hoarse to sing " Eock-a- 
by," but gets up again: — aching head, aching side, aching 
back, aching heart — and again walks with the baby ; while 
the little creature " coO'S " and looks at her with sparkling 
eyes, wide-awake as a sunflower. She is delighted while 
her mother walks. Beholding a crystal tear drop that has 
left the baby's eye and is resting in a dimple on her little 
cheek, the mother's heart is touched again, and again she 
decides her treasure must not cry. With aching limbs and 
aching frame, the walking continues, until the infant, weary 
of waking, goes to sleep. The mother returns to her bed, 
not much against her will. She is tired enough to " sleep 
without rocking ; " so is the visitor in the adjoining room. 
Why all this disturbance ? Simply because baby is spoiled. 
Swift-winged time speeds on. The little girl is so badly 
spoiled that even her friends can scarcely tolerate her. The 
neighbors dread to see her coming. She is into every con- 
ceivable mischief — pulling things, out of machine drawers 
and off of dressers; overturning chairs; scratching furni- 
ture; whining; fretting; interrupting the talkers; calling 
for this, that, and the other thing to eat ; soiling things with 
sticky, greasy fingers ; then off into the yard, breaking vines 
and pulling up flowers; back into the house for another 
buttered biscuit, then water, then cake and pickle — until 
the poor mother is worried and the neighbor visited heaves a 
sigh of relief at their departure, though she loved the child's 
mother and always gave her a hearty welcome. It begins 



50 Hejarthstonk Echoks. 

to be a neighboirhood saying: " 0, my! Yoader comes 

Mrs. , and she's bringing that unruly child. Wliy 

didn't she leave her at home ? Mrs. is. a good, sweet 

woman ; but. — ^la, la ! — ^that horrid Whimsey ! " 

Erelong Pettie is a " gro^wn-up " schoolgirl. A home- 
spoiled child usually gives the teacher trouble, and Whim- 
sey is no exception to the rule. Regarding herself as. a priv- 
ileged character, she. wants to be petted and humored in 
every whim, and thinks she can break the rules with abso- 
lute impunity. Miss Pettie Whimsical must not be repri- 
bianded for anything, for she has always had her own way. 
Her parents and brothers have always seemed to regard it 
as a special privilege to wait on her and grant her every de- 
sire; so they have humored her until she is very exacting, 
and would be miserable if denied even a slight request. 
They are by no means wealthy, but have a nice income, or 
she would have almost sent them to the poorhouse before 
this time, she is so extravagant. They worked hard for 
what they have, and it was a pity for them to waste it on her, 
unless she appreciated it more. 

When her parents started out on their wedded existence, 

they were very poor indeed. She had nothing, and he had 

to borrow money to buy his wedding outfit. When he 

would speak of marrying, his mother would, in a jovial way, 

sing to him : 

"As you have nothing and your girl has nothing. 
Don't be in a hurry to wed; 
For nothing and nothing together make nothing, 
And nothing won't buy your bread." 



Unequally Yoked. 51 

But ultimatelj tkis situatioai was no disgrace and no dis- 
advantage to tkeim. Both, having been reiaxed poor, thej 
did not expect mucli in the way O'f indulgence, and were 
willing to work liard and live economically — about the hap- 
piest condition in which people can livei, after all. It was 
often said she was the most graceful woman at the washtub 
in that community, and that her songs sounded sweeter when 
accompanied by the gentle music of the washboai'd than at 
any other time. For many years they lived in a humble 
rented cottage — he, working for a very small salary; she, 
with her own industrious and willing hands, faithfully and 
smoothly running all the home machinery and carefully 
training the young heart tendrils of an interesting fam- 
ily of boys. Their lives of uprightness and Christian con- 
secration won for them the confidence and esteem of their 
fellow-men, and it was predicted that they should some 
time see better days. Little by little, by honest endeavor, 
they arose from poverty. He attained to special promi- 
nence as a citizen^, while she was always one of thosei sweet, 
amiable, refined, self-sacrificing characters that are loved 
and admired by all. Their financial promotion did not pro- 
mote (?) them to indolence and laziness, as is too often the 
case in these latter days. Persons properly reared to hard 
work under the " old constitution " are not very liable to 
drift into a state of chronic do-nothingness. This couple, 
having themselves realized the sting of poverty, have al- 
ways fully sympathized with the poor ; and, not content with 
only saying to the half -clothed and hungry, " Depart, in 



5.2 Heari^hstone Kchoes. 

peace, be ye wanned and filled," they have manifested that 
sympathy in a more substantial way. They have given lib- 
erally of their means for benevolent purposes, also' for the 
upbuilding of the Master's work, and, while blessing oth- 
ers, have themselves been greatly blessed. By skillful man- 
agement and continued industry they have secured a very 
desirable home, and have been able to givei all their children 
a very good, solid, practical education. Their sons, having 
inherited a goodly portion of their parents' energy and skill, 
are among our most useful, influential, and highly-respected 
citizens. The only objection urged against this family is 
their sad mistake in rearing this little girl the way they 
hava To them was intrusted the beautiful lump of clay, 
out of which they were expected to mold the best possible 
image. It was their duty to use the best advantages they 
had to the best effect they could ; then if the image should 
be marred, they could not be censured for the f ailura In- 
stead of acting thus, they designed a "wall flower; " and 
she did not resent — was easily molded into that shape. She 
has been a " parlor boarder " all her life, demanding what 
she pleased, feeling confident from experience that her de- 
mands would receive prompt attention. She has exalted 
ideas of life, however, and there is not a stigma on her moral 
record. There is no discount in her appearancei. She cer- 
tainly dresses elegantly, is a beautiful young lady, intelli- 
gent, and the very embodiment of grace. She has had the 
^best advantages, and has many rare accomplishments; but 
they are seriously clouded by that dreadful disposition — 



UNEQUAI.LY Yoked. 53 

irritable, sensitive, exacting, and unpleasant in various other 
ways. If any little thing goes contrary to her notions, she 
almost drifts off into Bunyan's " slough of despond "— ^ 
pouts, sulks, cries, makes herself miserable, and drives 
every smile from the household. She scorns the very idea 
of work; ssljs the world owes her a living (or some man 
does), and there are plenty of persons to work without her. 
She would rather read novels any day ; so she spends .iiuch 
of her time reading them, thus filling her bright mind with 
trashy literature, feeding it with froth. Her mother long 
ago quit asking her to assist in the home work, for she was 
never ready to help, and manifested such a spirit of un- 
willingness as to make even her pretended assistance a draw- 
back instead of a relief. Is it not astonishing that the over- 
indulged child always shows the least gratitude? Whim- 
sey has always seemed to consider herself undeor special 
obligations to " boss " the family, then criticise their work. 
She would keep strictly aloof from the kitchen and dining 
room until the meal was prepared by her mother, then go 
in abruptly, look around scornfully, and say : " Well, we 
have nothing at all to eat to-day, sure; I thought you would 
have " — so and so. 

Like many others of Adam's race, Whimsey has spent 
more time studying about what she wanted than thanking 
for what she already had. Notice it when and where you 
will, and you will ascertain that^ as a rule, the member 
in every family who criticises most severely, dictates most 
lavishly, and complains most uncompromisingly if his 



54 Hearthstone Echoes. 

whims are not granted is the one who does the least of the 
work and defrays the least in the family expenses. It is 
almost as bad in this respect in the natural family as in the 
great spiritual family, the church. In each the grumbler 
or fault-finder is the " parlor boarder." 

Poor Mr. Willing Indulgence! I fear he will want to 
appeal to " the powers that be " before long to have his name 
changed to " Tired-of-it." He does not know her yet like 
I do. He never heard of her until that grand barbecue 
here about three months agO'j but says her captivating eyes, 
bewitching smiles, soft and sweet voice, and placid coun- 
tenance were too much for him; and he decided then and 
there to win her hand and heart, if possible. I'll never tell 
him how she has been petted and spoiled nor how she came by 
(earned) her names, " Pettie " and " Whimsey." I'll let 
him have the fun of finding it O'Ut 

lY. 

Six weeks have passed. The couple have returned from 
their tour, and have gone to their beautiful home which he 
bought and furnished in grand style before their marriage. 
He had Mrs. Goodlady and Miss Tidy wise (elegant women) 
to assist him in selecting and arranging thei fumiturei, tell- 
ing them he did not want them to consider the money ques- 
tion any item at all. He said that he had plenty of 
that; that he expected to marry but once; and that he 
wanted the home as nearly as possible worthy of the beau- 
tiful bird he was going to put into it, wanted it fitted up to 



Unequally Yoked. 55 

suit the taste and convenience of the greatest girl in the 
wide, wide world— the " just one girl." When they inti- 
mated that possibly he had extravagant ideas, he said he 
did not want to be extravagant, thought that was entirely 
wrong, but had long since learned that the " beet is cheap- 
est " in many instances; that there was no economy in 
buying "common" furniture, neither any "fad" which 
would soon look out of style; so hei wanted everything at- 
tractive, " up to date.," and durable. 

Miss Truthful was there yesterday, and she says their 
home is " awfully nice, perfectly lovely ; " that from kitchen 
to parlor everything is arranged with exquisite tastei; and 
the finest piano — wh^^-e! Having plenty of money, he 
wanted to give his pretty bride a happy surprisei. I intend 
calling on her to-morrow just to hear her unjust criticisms 
on the house and its furnishings. If she is pleased with 
anything, it will be the first time. I have known, her all 
her life. She is nothing but a pet, a spoiled baby. Poor 
man ! He will regret spending all that money in less than a 
year. Do you hear ? 

" Good morning, Mrs. Indulgence ! I have come to pre^ 
sent my congratulations. I have wanted to call on you ever 
since you began housekeeping. I was so hungry to see your 
lovely home. Indeed, you were a lucky miss to be presented 
with such a home, and it so splendidly furnished, too. The 
location is charming; everybody says it is by far the most 
desirable in town." 



56 Hearthstone; Echoes. 

" Well, y-e-s ; the house does right well, I suppose, for 
beginners; but it is not planned at all according to my 
taste, is so' inconvenient and miserably ugly. The rooms 
that are plastered are as white as snow. They make me 
think of ghosts every time I enter them. I like the plas- 
tering slightly tinted. Then all that highly-embossed and 
ingrain paper in the other rooms — fine indeed, but I do 
not like the colors ; they do not harmonize with the various 
tints in my fine paintings. As to the location, I think 7t is 
perfectly awful; would rather have any other lot in town. 
It will all do to begin with, though ; but I always said that 
when I married I would have a nice honie at first, if I never 
did afterwards. You know that young folks have high aSpi- 
rations. They have exalted ideas of life and a perfect 
mania for elegant homes. Almost anything will do for 
older people; they have had their day, and it is nothing 
more than their duty to see that their children have a good 
time; but it is the strangest thing to me that most parents 
act as if they want their children to begin with nothing, as 
they did, and work hard for all they expect to' have; I would 
like to know what they want with what they have laid up, 
except to give to their children. As children grow up, they 
respect their parents' pocketbook much morei than their au- 
thority. Xothing can please a son or a daughter more than 
to play at random with father's purse string. This is the 
favorite toy; and when deprived of it, what further use — 
I — I — I mean I do not see why parents will not always 
grant this pleasant little privilege. It keeps children in 



Unequally Yoked. 57 

such good humor. There is nothing they enjoy morei. I 
believe in young people having a good time, and money is 
just what can give it. It takes lots of it, though ; and, say 
(don't you tell him that I said it; I have told him often 
enough), I would never have married the man I did had 
it not been for his wealth. He is not a bit handsome:, and 

I never could love him like I did his rival^ Mr. ; but 

how I do love his pocketbook! He has money in half a 
dozen banks ; so if some of them fail, h© will have others to 
depend upon. . . . O, me ! I'm almost tared to death 
trying to arrange things in some passable order. Mr. In- 
dulgence thought h© would do something smart; so. he 
bought all this ' old-timey ' stuff and had these ' tacky ' old 
women to help him arrange it — or, rather, to throw it into 
the house ; and — I'll declare ! — ^it's the ' tackies-t ' mess; I 
have ever seen. It's perfectly hideous. I just laughed out- 
right in his face when he brought me here, everything looked 
so funny. He ' kinder ' smiled^ but didn't laugh much. ; 
and I do not believe he appreciated my looks and comical, 
three-cornered smiles as I gazed around at the ludicrous 
display. He seemed to think I would sanction everything ; 
but — mercy! — that would never do. It would look like I 
had no better taste or judgment than the women who' helped 
select and arrange the old things. I wanted toi let him 
know on the very start that I had been better reared than 
that I have guyed him about his ' associate judges ' 
until I do not believe he likes it a bit. You see, he used 
to go with that ugly old maid. Miss Tidywise ; and her aunt, 



58 Hearthstone Echoes. 

old Mrs. Goodlady, wanted him to marry heir. I wish he 
had, if this is a sample of the way he is going tO' treat me. 
But go through the house' (if you can get, thro'Ugh for the 
dirt), and look at the rest of the so-called ' furniturei' The 
piano there does very well, but — well, I would have se- 
lected a different style altogether; but I guess I can make 
out with it a while until I can sell it for half its cost, then 
buy the kind I want. Decidedly the worst trouble I have 
had thus far is with my servants. They worry -me to death ; 
they just will not — " 

" Servants ? Pray tell me what you want with servants. 
There are only two of you to work for, and both are young, 
strong, and able to do what little work you need." 

" Little, indeed ! You may call it ' little ' if you want tO' ; 
I don't. There's all the cooking and that abominable dish 
washing; then all the sweeping, dusting, shopping [she 
failed to mention the grumbling, visiting, and gossiping] — 
a thousand and one tilings to do. You are: just lilie Mr. 
Indulgence. Don't you thinlv he wanted us to try to do 
our own work ? He said he would help me ; that we 
could live on half of what it would take: if we had cerv- 
ants (I didn't know I was marrying a. miser) ; and that we 
could keep everything so much cleaner than servants would. 
Poor idiot! That is just what I want with servants^ — ^to 
keep the house clean and to do' the work, soi I will not have 
to get my hands black and hard and rough as nutmeg grat- 
ers. Tie has always been tied to^ his mother's apron string, 
and has watched her do' and do and do and helped her do 



Unequally Yoked. 59 

until he thinks it is nothing but right for women to do the 
drudgery. His mother actually taught him to wash dishes, 
make up beds, sweep, sew on buttons, and do many other 
unnecessary things. He really tried to reason with me on 
the subject of housekeeping, but I was too' smart to listen. 
He carefully rexiiinded me that he had put waterworks all 
through the house; had the coal and kindling in arm's 
length; -had arranged with a dairyman to bring milk and 
butter to the kitchen door, likewise a. groceryman toi de- 
liver our provisions; had his office in the adjoining build- 
ing, so I would not be without his company long and so he 
could always keep up my fires and do the chores ; and then 
had the impudence to say he didn't think we would need 
any help ; that he really needed the exercise and would 
gladly help me. (Pitiful paupers that we are !) Such stuff 
to choke a bride with! ISTow, what would my hands look 
like on the piano keys after I had washed dishes for a year ? 
And what would I look like running to answer the telephone 
and the doorbell every time, just like I had been reared in 
abject poverty and had always been used to work? He 
made me mad then and there. I set my limber tongue on a 
high pivot and whirled it round and round until I told him 
what I thought of him, of my sad disappointment in ' our 
home,' as he called it — this pen of trash in which he has 
caged me. I strictly informed him that I would never at- 
tempt to keep house one week with less than three servants — 
cook, housegirl, and errand boy. [It is astonishing how 
much use young persons can find for " servants," especially 



6o Hearthstone Echoes. 

young persons who have been reared without a servant in 
the house, except their father and mother.] I also wanted 
a groom, but thought if my husband wanted to see after 
the dusty horse and carriage, leave his work, close his office, 
and take me driving every afternoon,, he might dO' sO'; I 
would leave that little matter with him. He didn't object 
to doing so before our marriage, and I wanted to know how 
long he would hold out that way. However, I think it looks 
so much nicer for those of our standing tO' have a regular 
coachman ; don't you ? It is sO' ' tacky ' for the man him- 
self to drive. Then it looks so much grander to see several 
servants about a home ; it looks as if persons are living and 
up to date." 

" Stop, woman ! You frighten me. You are flying too 
high and too f ast^ If you do not mind, you will light low 
and drag that good husband down with you. You are dis- 
couraging him on the start." 

" That's what he says, but I'm determined toi live while 
I do live ; and — what do you think ? — the other morning, 
after our first cook left us, he lovingly said : ' iN'ow, wife, let 
us be right smart and get breakfast ourselves.' I agreed, 
knowing I could soon convince him. He had the fire roar- 
ing in half the time the errand boy would have been dress 
ing, made the coffee (and it was coffee, too), broiled steak, 
toasted cheese, scrambled eggs the nicest, and then came 
and woke me. He had left nothing for me to do except to 
make biscuits. ISTow, honestly, I had never made a biscuit 
in my life; for, in my rearing, at times when we had no 



Unequai,i.y Yoked. 6i 

servants, mamma always did tlie cooking, and I — I enter- 
tained the company. She couldn't do both, you know, she was 
so delicate ; and it was no trouble to me to keep ' dressed up/ 
Moreover, she said she had always thought there ought to be 
one pair of soft, white hands in every family. But back 

to my biscuit story. Mr. I told me what ingredients 

to use, where to find them, and said one cup of buttermilk 
would make plenty of biscuits for us. He then said per- 
haps I had better measure the ingredients the first tima I 
remembered hearing our cook say it took three' cups of milk 
each meal to make our biscuits, but I thought I would obey 
my husband ' this once ; ' so I measured my milk, flour, 
soda, salt, and lard — one cup each — and in went my 
hand, diamond ring and all. I stirred 'and stirred and 
stirred, but it wouldn't thicken sufficiently. I had often 
heard of kneading dough ; I certainly needed some then. I 
called Mr. Willing from currying the horses to come and 
doctor my biscuit dough. ' You need more flour, my dear,' 
he said as soon as he looked at it. He then quickly washed 
his hands, sifted some flour, helped to get the biscuits ready 
for the stove, and managed the baking, while I straightened 
up things in the dining room. ' Who-ere ! ' came ringing 
from the cookroom in a few moments, with an old-fashioned, 
side-splitting laugh — a regular, boisterous Mia, ha!' 
' What is the matter ? !N'ow yO'U are making fun of my bis- 
cuits, and I won't make any more. I told you I couldn't 
cook; I told you so. My motto is : " If at first I don't suc- 
ceed, I try, try no more." ' He came to the table, sober 



62 Hkarthstone) Echoes. 

as a judgB, with the steaming biscuits that had all run to- 
gether and puffed above the top of the pan. 'Just look 
how pretty, dearie ! ' he says. ' Didn't they rise nicely ? 
A regular golden lo'af ! I will telephone to the bakery 
(next block) and get some hot buns to mix along with our 
nice biscuits,' Down we sat to breakfast. After he gave 
thanks, I broke open and buttered a biscuit ; so did he ; but 
they were yellow as gold, and did not smell like mother's 
biscuits. ' O, what yellow flour ! ' I exclaimed ; ' and per- 
fectly musty. That grocer ought to be — ' He gently 
stopped me, and said that nothing was wrong, except I had 
put in a little too much soda ; but I'll declare I never used 
a bit more soda than I did milk^ salt, lard, or flour. He 
had tbe audacity to say he would show me how tO' proportion 
the ingredients the next time; but I quickly informed him 
that he might have the pleasure of instructing the cook; 
that I was not going to be a slave for any man. He drooped 
his head and looked sad. Then I think he tried to retaliate, 
for he ate three buns and only the top crust of one of my 
biscuits, after all the pains I took in making them for him. 
Suffice it to say he had a cook here to get dinner, and will 
have the next time you hear from him. He regrets it be- 
cause she is so careless, is breaking up our dishes so fast; 
but I don't care for that^ There will be plenty of dishes 
after I am dead and gone, and I am not going to worry over 
little things. I don't like those dishes, anyway. They 
are of an excellent quality of China and were very costly, 
but I dislike the decorations. They are wild roses, and I 



UnequaIvLy Yoked. 63 

prefer clover blossoms; they are so nmch more artistic. 
But never mind ; they will soon be gone, then I will select 
for myself. Glorious privilege ! The honsegirl broke the 
only thing I was really proud of — that large cut-glass fruit 
bowl, one of my handsomest bridal presents and from one 
of my old sweethearts, the nicest man that ever waited on 
me (I was a simpleton for not marrying that man). I 
cried my eyes red when she broke it ; but when ' Eastus ' 
broke that large mirror in the folding bed, Mr. Indulgence 
almost cried, and I nearly split my sides laughing, because 
I knew that meant a new suit of furniture for my room. 
I don't like the finishing of this horrid old furniture; I 
don't consider it up to data" 

This was the preface to her prodigious catalogue of ob- 
jections that she carefully explained to her young husband. 
She seems tO' have been born in the objective case., comr 
pared as an objective adjective and conjugated as an. ob- 
jective verb; and I do not see why every young man did 
not decline her as an objective noun or pronoun. She ob- 
jects, and objects; and when the patience of everybody is 
worn out, she begins a fresh chapter of objections. I am 
fearful she will drive that poor man to the lunatic asylum, 
to a drunkard's grave, or to suicide. He certainly has a 
" wasp " to contend with. 

V. 

Twenty-three years have rushed by. Their firstborn has 
cast his first vote ; their oldest daughter has married a drunk- 



64 Hearthstonk Echoes. 

ard, a gambler' — to get rid of tlie taunts at hoone, ske said. 
Three otJier bojs and a baby girl have^ completed the family. 
Once has Mr. Indulgence been forced to screen himself be- 
hind the bankrupt law; thrice have they seen their home 
reduced to ashes (twice in consequence of careless serv- 
ants). They have seen their married daughter neglected 
and maltreated by the brute she mistook for a husband; 
they have seen tears of anguish wrung from her tender 
heart. Often have they lovingly received her back into the 
home of her childhood when she had to. flee for safety from 
the drunken beast. Hungry, unnerved, quivering, scream- 
ing, she would rush for refuge to the home and hearts of 
parental love. More than once has her father supplied her 
with the necessaries and comforts, of life; but the being to 
whom in youth she innocently plighted her vows has dis- 
posed of everything he could to' satisfy the burning thirst 
for the mad demon, drink. 

Weeks and months have found Mrs. Indulgence prostrate 
on an invalid's couch. Five years ago the hand of afflic- 
tion fell heavily upon the two youngest children; and the 
precious little boy, after a few days of indescribable sufFer- 
ing, peacefully passed into the realm of spirits. Then 
night and day, week after week, anxious watchers waited 
by a bedside. The unfeeling death messenger seemed to 
be leaning over that bed trying to decide which of its occu- 
pants he should take first, for the mother and her little girl 
were very near death's door. 

" O, Death, hear my petition, I implore thee ; spare my 



Unbquai^ly Yok^d. 65 

sweet child and take me ! " exclaimed the sorrowing, suffer- 
ing mother. 

The little one, slightly startled, soiftly raised her waxen 
fingers, her almost transparent hand, as if tO' say: '" l^o, 
no ! Don't take my dood mamma ; take me, take me ! '' 

The heart-crushed husband, the doting father, showered 
down the tears he had long kept concealed and wept aloud : 
" 0, Death, hear me, I pray ! Spare my dear wife and 
babe ! Here am I ; take me I " 

Such tender pleadings apparently touched even the cold- 
hearted death angel, and for a while he stayed his hand. 
Soon he leaned over again, looked at one, then the other, 
as if still undecided. He then calmly reached his skeleton 
fingers toward the beautiful babe. 

" 0," shrieked the fond mother, " spare, spare, my 
darling child ! You must not take her ! I cannot give 
her up; I cannot live without her! Take me! 0, take 
me!" 

" You know not what yooi ask, woman," replied tbe an- 
gel (through the tongue of the skillful physician) ; " for if 
your little one lives, she will be no more comfort to you; 
if she shall go away, she will be blessed both now and for- 
ever." 

The father's heart was filled almost to bursting. He felt 
as if he could endure no more. Trying to grow submissive, 
he went into another room, where he could be alone with 
his God, on. whose strong arm he had long leaned for sup- 
port when earthly fascinations seemed converted into im- 



66 Hearthstone Echoks. 

penetrable clouds of darkest gloom. He knew his .Father 
Friend had never forsaken him ; sO' after this troubled hour 
— this Gethsemane of trials and heartaches and victories of 
resignation — he fervently prayed amid deep heart throbs: 
" Thy will, Lord, be done." Eetnming to the mother, 
he found her still frantically pleading for the babe to be 
spared, as if perfectly rebellious against everything sacred 
and wanting her desires granted regardless of consequences. 
She had her wish. The death messenger gradually loosed 
his grasp and left the waxen figure of the innocent child 
prostrate beside the invalid mother. But nevermore can 
the beautiful babe (two years old) climb up and caress the 
lips that respond as none but a mother's ever can ; nevermore 
can that little tongue lisp the sweet names " papa," 
" mamma," as heretofore, for there is serious trouble In 
the spine and brain; never again can the little girl walk; 
never again can she speak rationally. Her mind is for- 
ever gone. 0, wo-uld that the death angel had taken her 
with her little brother ! But she is spared. Why, why ? 
Echo solemnly answers : " Why ? " 

It is too true that we often know not what w© ask. We 
pray without understanding, and sometimes in a rebellious 
spirit, as if to say : " ISTot thy will, but mine." In the first 
place, we sometimes pray without trying to serve the Lord, 
without even an attempted obedience to his precepts. How 
can we, how dare we, ask him for more blessings while we 
are so unworthy of what we already have and while we 
' stand in open rebellion against his holy will ? We have no 



Unequali^y Yokkd. 67 

promise of answer to such petitioiis. " Why call ye me, 
Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say ? " It is 
our glorious privilege, our unmerited honor, to call on " our 
Father," but it should be with the spirit of humility and of 
willing, loving obedience. In the next place, we appar- 
ently presume to think we know our needs better than the 
Father does, whereas frequently if the very things for which 
we pray should be granted, they would be to us a curse. 
Our prayers are composed too much of requests and peti- 
tions: not enough of expressions of gratitude for blessings 
past, present, and prospective. We often ask for useless, 
and even harmful, things. Think of our multiplied re^ 
quests,, as if trying to make the Lord a pauper by asking him 
to give away everything that is good and desirable ! We 
often pray in a very dictatorial spirit, telling the Lord ex- 
actly what to do, when, and in what manner. 'No mortal 
knows enough of the future to insist on his own wishes 
being granted, and it should be with fear and trembling 
that we approach the throne of grace to ask for more bless- 
ings. 

Every home must some day have its Gethsemane; so with 
every life. There will come a crisis in which we will ar- 
dently crave the granting of our ovm desires. We will 
either be almost, if not altogether, rebellious against the 
powers that rule, or else we will with bleeding hearts meekly 
submit and murmur not. The shadow of death sometimes 
hangs over our homes, and to us all is appalling dark- 
ness. As the bitter cup is held to our lips, we go in secret 



68 Hearthstone Echoes. 

to our Father for relief. In anguish of soul we each may 
cry : " O mj Father, ... let this cup pass from 
me." In our weakness we try to peer into the future. 
There we see nothing but irreiparable loss and impenetrable 
gloom resulting from the sad affliction that is impending. 
We see no possible good that could result therefrom, whereas 
we think we see much harm that would be^ avoided and great 
good that would without doubt be accomplished by counter- 
manding what seems to be the inevitable. Then, with all 
the earnestness of our hearts and with no evil intent, again 
we implore: "Let this cup pass." The soul within 
us then makes a desperate effort to throw off all selfishness 
and yield to what is right. ' The finger of faith points us 
back to the garden of olives. Though the passover moon is 
full, it is clouded by the heavy weight of that mournful 
hour, and we behold 

" Nigbt with ebon pinions brooding o'er the vale ; " 

we watch the royal Son of David as, with solemn, but ma- 
jestic, tread on his own funeral march, he begins "to be 
sorrowful and very heavy ; " we hear this Man of sorrows 
saying to his selected trio, " My soul is exceeding sorrow- 
ful, even unto death : tarry ye here, and watch with me ; " 
we see him go " a little farther " and fall on his face, as if 
in the very shadow of the cross and under the stinging 
scourge and the hiss of torture; we hear the pleading out'- 
burst of his agonized spirit: " O my Father, if it be possible, 
let this ©up pass from me." For an instant a mighty bat- 



UnrqualIvY Yoked. 69 

tie seems raging between two natures, the human and the 
divine; but as in the lonely wilderness, so now in this gar- 
den of sorrows, divinity is victorious; the Son of man is 
in humble subjection to the higher will; and though in his 
deep earnestness his sweat falls as great drops of blood, we 
hear those words of sublime submission: " Nevertheless not 
as I will, but as thou wilt." Having nobly submitted of his 
own will, he, after this troubled hour of Gethsemane, is 
calm as the unruffled sea. We see him return to the three 
he had appointed as a kind of inner guard; wei hear his 
touching expression of disappointment that in this dreadful 
crisis he seemed deprived of all human sympathy— that 
even his chosen three, whom he wished to have near him 
in his woe, had become so overpowered they could not 
watch with him " one hour." " Watch and pray, that ye 
enter not into temptation," tenderly admonishes the loving 
and future-knowing Savior. " The spirit indeed is willing, 
but the flesh is weak." He leaves them and prays again 
and again, not again requesting that the cup of anguish 
may pass from him, but that he may be enabled to fulfill the 
divine will in completing his sacrifice— his glorious work of 
human redemption— that he may glorify God and magnify 
his love. From this let us learn the beautiful lesson of 
resignation. 

" Prayer pulls the ropei below, and the great bell rings 
above in the ears of God," said Spurgeon. But we should 
be careful not to ring that bell so as to ask God to do for us 
what he has commanded us to do for ourselves; neither 



70 HEARTHSTONE ECHOES. 

should we ask him to do anything not in accordance with 
divine sanction. If we could have perfect resignation to 
the Father's will, it would strengthen ns, fill us with peace, 
and fit us for nobler work ; it would, comparatively, change 
the cross into a crown, Gethsemane into paradise, death 
into immortal glory. How farseeing is the faith and how 
divine the sweet spirit of submiss-ion that amidst the deepest 
trials can say : 

" Father, remove this bitter cup. 
If such thy sacred will; 
If not, content to drink it up, 
Thy pleasure I fulfill!" 

VI. 

What has become of our " spoiled baby," our neighbor- 
hood nuisance, our troublesome schoolgirl, our ungrateful 
bride, our torturing wife, our " society woman ? " 

There is an ugly chrysalis that contains a beautiful bulr 
terfly, but this butterfly cannot be admired and appreciated 
until after it breaks forth from its dingy shell. Miss Pet- 
tie Whimsical's heart has all the time contained a good 
principle; but it has been so deeply imbedded in self-con- 
ceit, so thickly covered with humored whims, so securely 
hedged in by petrified pouts, so firmly walled by stones of 
self-will cemented with the strongest solution of egotism, 
that the jewel therein could never be discovered unless that 
formidable wall should be crushed. The strokes of con- 
ficience might " tap, tap " forever ; the voice of duty might 



Unkquali^y Yokkd. 71 

cry for admittence; but to no avail. The pleading love of 
indulgent parents and husband and the heavenly gift of six 
bright, promising children were insufficient to penetrate the 
heart wall and let the crown jewel appear. The battering- 
ram of affliction at last planted itself at the door of that 
heart and demanded entrance. " Eap, tap, tap., rap ! '* 
Harder, harder, still harder ! There ! The cement of ego- 
tism has given way. iN'ow a stone of self-will has been re- 
moved, now another, and anotber. Those petrified pouts 
have been melted by the lava of the heart's anguisb ; those 
humored whims and that self-conceit have been dissolved 
by tears of regret; and now nothing is in the way and the 
heart jewel appears. The chrysalis has been opened and 
the beautiful butterfly has come forth, no longer deserving 
the name " Pettie Whimsical Indulgence," but " New Eeso- 
lution." 

Throughout all these weary years this good man has 
known that his whimsical wife was fast dragging him down- 
ward, and often has he kindly told her so; but the only 
effect was to ruffle her feelings, set her sensitive nature afire, 
and make her even more disagreeablci. He has long since 
learned that there is no peace at heart without peace in 
the household ; so he has been determined to try to gratify 
every whim as long as financially able; then if he sliould 
have to fall, she could but fall with him. He would keep 
her up as long as possible. To keep a wife blinded, or even 
partially so, as to his financial embarrassment, is a griev- 
ous mistake made by many a husband, and often witli 



72 He;ae.thston£; Echoes. 

serious results. Frequently when a man of natural spirit 
and enthusiasm realizes that he is failing as to worldly 
means, he tries to keep his wife from becoming cognizant 
of the fact, lest she should be humiliated or feel disap- 
pointed concerning his ability tO' comply with his youthful 
vows. She keeps drawing and drawing on his means until 
she draws the very " lifeblood " out of his purse strings be- 
fore she is aware of it. If she realized the situation, she, 
if worthy of the name " wife," or even " woman," would 
willingly, gladly lessen her claims, sacrifice her avarice, and 
curtail her expenses, and thus help tO' hold him up out of the 
quagmire of financial depression. Mrs. Indulgence was not 
thus deceived. At last, however, under the force of many 
and varied circumstances, she, like the weary prodigal, 
" came to herself " — not only to find that she had wasted 
her substance with riotous living, but had also obscured the 
light from noble lives. 

" O that I could live my life over ! " often sighs the truly 
penitent woman. " How differently would I act ! I would 
know how to appreciate the self-sacrifice of my fond par- 
ents, whose delight it was to labor hard that I might have 
the best advantages. Never would I call them ' old fogies ' 
and snatch the reins from their hands that I might do as I 
pleased. I now sadly realize that the course I pursued in 
girlhood was inclined to bring their gray hairs in sorrow 
toward the grave. And think of my dear brothers! How 
4id they keep from despising me? They humored me; 
they petted me. I scorned their very indulgence, yet de- 



Une;qualIvY Yokkd. 73 

manded more, still more. If I could live my life over, I 
would also have more regard for my own health and less 
regard for the styles that enfeebled my existence. My par- 
ents warned me; I heeded not. Fashion was my ideal 
queen; I was her ohedient subject. My parents pictured 
for me an invalid's couch, with myself as its unfortunate 
occupant. I laughed them to scorn, and said : ' You know 
not what you say.' They showed me an image of distress, 
with shriveled face, disheveled hair, distorted features, 
brow heavily knit by pain, body stooped by torturing aches, 
and mind clouded by dread disease. The image stared at 
me with a ghastly grin that made me shudder. They 
said that was myself after a few years of imprudence. I 
turned away in disgust, and told them they were crazy. 
I also informed them that I was going to follow the dic- 
tates of my stylish queen and let the future take care of 
itself. 

"Again, if I could live my life over, I would not neglect 
my obedience to my Lord. I would remember my Creator 
in the days of my youth, while the evil days come not ; I 
would lean on his strong and willing arm, not only in houra 
of adversity, but also' in times of temporal prosperity; I 
would gratefully acknowledge him as the Giver of all good. 
In early girlhood I had a strong inclination to flee to the 
good Shepherd ; but as I grew older, I became more and 
more absorbed in worldly thought. My heart became hard- 
ened. I loved worldly amusement more than godly gain. 
Ungrateful creature I ! How has the Lord kept from cast- 



74 Hearthstone; Echoes. 

ing me off, as he did tJie wicked king, among tiie beiast-s of 
the field ? 

" If I could live my life over, how differently would I 
act toward my devoted, indulgent husband, who has wrong- 
fully sacriiiced his time, his money, his pleasure to com- 
ply with my unjust demands ! He gave me smiles of affec- 
tion and words of good cheer ; I gave in retrum cold f lowns 
of displeasure and humiliating expressions of unkindness. 
He gave me pure love ; I centered my love in his pockethook. 
In everything he tried to please me ; in haughtiness of spirit 
I tried to appear even more displeased than, I really was. 
How has he endured me all this time ? It is a wonder he 
has not been driven tO' desperationi ; but, as God's nobleman, 
he has patiently braved himself against despair, and through 
all this tort-ure and temptation has remained entirely free 
from evil habits and rash acts, ^oble man he is! Many 
a man with similar trials would have sought solace in a 
gambling crowd or tried tO' drown his trouble in the ine- 
briate's bowl. God bless the man who has been so true to 
the unworthy woman who' did not merit his love or esteem ! 

" Moreover, I would see more closely after my iiouse- 
hold instead of trusting all tO' careless servants. Our beau- 
tiful home, with its splendid furnishings, so lovingly pro- 
vided by my companion, in the days of his youthful pros- 
perity and happiness, would doubtless now be ours to enjoy, 
had it not been for my lack of watchfulness, my lack of 
g;ratitude. Never — no, never — would I commit my tender 
babes to the care of a thouerhtless nurse: for had not mv 



Unequai^IvY Yoked. 75 

precious baby received that fall which injured her spine, 
having been left at home with a nurse while I was seeking 
pleasure in a country drive; had we even been notified of 
the fall in time to give the proper attention, doubtless the 
little darling would now be sound and well, in school or 
playing merrily around the hearthstone. Poor little suf- 
ferer ! Yet, with all her affliction, she does not give me 
half the trouble I gave my parents, for she never objects. 
My other daughter — so young, so attractive, so pure — ^would 
never have married that drunkard, that desperado, had I 
made home pleasant. As T think of her humiliation, her 
distress, hei* torture of body and soul, my heart almost 
bursts with grief. Think of her in innocent girlhood — by 
nature beautiful, affectionate, intelligent ; think of her now 
— a drunkard's wife, dejected, mistreated, in want, miser- 
able! 1 have watched our homes crumble to ashes; have 
watched our gold slip unjustly from our fingers ; have suf- 
fered indescribably from the pangs of affliction ; have seen 
the skeleton grasp of death seize one of our sweet chil- 
dren when I was too weak to raise my pillowed head, and 
when the lifeless little body, dressed in burial robe, was for 
a moment placed by my side, friends kindly lifted my head 
that I might imprint a loving, sorrowful, good-by kiss upon 
the marble lips and cheeks; I have kept almost constant 
watch over our afflicted little girl; yet all these trials to- 
gether I count as joy compared with the anguish of soul I 
have felt concerning our older daughter, who has become 
the unfortunate victim of a worthless man. Language 



76 Hi^ARTHSTONE; ECHOES. 

would falter and fall wo-unded and defeated if forced to 
even attempt a true description of her sorrow. Never this 
side of the dark, deep river will she find relief, and all he- 
cause I failed tO' do^ my duty as a wife and mother. Re- 
morse, remorse ! 0, if I had only known — But the past 
I can never undo ; it is a sealed book, whosei clasp I cannot 
find. God, forgive! Parents, hroithers, husband, chil- 
dren, I implore you to forgive ! 

" I have resolved what I will do : I will arise and go to 
my Heavenly Father through faith and profound obedience, 
and henceforth my life shall be consecrated to his service. 
I will so live as to renew the shattered confidence of my 
husband and other loved ones; I will live aright. I have 
sown the seed of discontentment and strifei; it is but just 
that I shall reap a harvest of anguish. As Byron once said : 

" ' The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree 
I planted. They have torn me, and I bleed. 
I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.' 

" I will meekly submit, and will carry the load of grief 
cheerfully, trying all the time to lighten the sorrows and 
brighten the lives of others till I am permitted tO' lay my 
burden at my Savior's feet." 

She became a thoroughly converted woman. Many — 0, 
so many! — who make earnest resolves as to better living 
afterwards retrograde, fall back into^ their old paths ; but 
not thus with this woman. Abiding by her resolutions, slie 
|)ecame and remained a humble, obedient " follower' of the 
Lamb ; " a devoted, practical, happy wife and mother. 



Une;quai.i,y Yoked. 77 

That home looks yerj different now. Poveirty ).'eigns 
there, but reigns in peace, love, and contentment. Eiches 
found wings and fast sailed away from where' they did not 
seem appreciated — so'me flying in one direction; some, in 
another. A very large per cent sO'Ught in vain toi gi'atify 
idle whims; part was buried in the ashes of home; part 
was cruelly caught by the extoirtioner and the monopolist ; 
while a goodly portion appropriately found lodgment in the 
homes of physicians, who' faithfully, patiently, and skill- 
fully watched over the sick and the dying. Their present 
home is a small rented cottaga Their furniture is plain and 
somewhat scarred and broken, having been rescued from 
the last fire (nothing was saved from the two former fires) ; 
but this is a home noWj for hearts of love are here. It is 
enough to cheer almost any despondent heart to pass by at 
eventide and hear that happy family as with the spirit and 
the understanding they make melody in their hearts by ^^ing- 

ing: 

" There is beauty all around. 
When there's love at home!" 
There is joy in every sound. 

When there's love at home. 
Peace and plenty here abide. 
Smiling sweet on every side; 
Time doth softly, sweetly glide. 
When there's love at home. 

" In the cottage there is joy, 
When there's love at home; 
Hate and envy ne'er annoy. 
When there's love at home. 



78 Hkarthston:^ Echo:^. 

Roses blossom 'neath our feet; 
All the earth's a garden sweet, 
Making life a bliss complete. 
When there's love at home. 

"Kindly heaven smiles above. 

When there's love at home; 
All the earth is filled with love. 

When there's love at home. 
Sweeter sings the brooklet by. 
Brighter beams the azure sky; 
O, there's One who smiles on high. 

When there's love at home." 

The once invalid motlie'r is now a reasonably strong 
woman, and has become a willing, industrious home keeper, 
with the timely aid of Mr. Indulgence and the boys., all hav- 
ing learned to use the dish rag and yield the broom with be- 
coming grace. 

"A charge to keep I have," 

submissively sings the fond mother, as she so frequently 
tries in vain tO' attract the attention of the poor little girl 
who five years ago was so bright, so full of baby life and 
cheering smiles, but who ever since that time has been 
as helpless as in her first month's existence and unable to 
distinguish one friend from another — a helpless, hopeless, 
mindless charge. 

During all this time — almost one-fourth of a century — 
of sad trials, Mr. Indulgence has retained that S'ame mental 
equilibrium ; that composed, serene disposition ; that sweet 
spirit of resignation which characterizes the true child of 
God that he is and has been since his youth. His wife's 



UNKQUALI.Y Yoked. 79 

conscience had been so completely seared over in childhood 
by whimsical gratifications that nothing short of rough ex- 
perience seemed able to melt it into submission. Eeader, 
understand me, please. I do not claim that these trials 
were sent for that purpose, for frequently the most conse- 
crated Christians have similar tribulations, as in this in- 
stance the just had to suffer with the unjust. We can never 
in this life know exactly how much to attribute to " direct 
providence," and we should be careful along this line. Some 
of the thoughts I would like to impress in this little serial 
are these: The impropriety of overindulgence, the evil of 
procrastination, the danger of not correcting evil habits, the 
importance of nipping error in the bud, the evil of ingrati- 
tude, the need of watchfulness, the peril of neglecting the 
soul.' When we realize that our hearts are growing hard 
and cold; when we find that we are inclined to become re- 
bellious against the right, not fully appreciating the benefits 
we receive from God and from the loved ones he has given 
us, let us not wait until some dire calamity shall befall us 
to' melt our hearts to penitence. Though sweetness often 
comes forth from bitter, it is not necessary or right for us 
to create bitter in order to extract the sweetness therefrom. 
There will doubtless come a time to each of us when we 
will sadly regret the misspent parts of our existence and 
would fain recall many of the days and years long since 
fled ; but— alas !— it will be too late. 

Youth, take warning! " N^ow is the accepted time." 
Catch the golden moments as they pass; try to make your 



8o Hearthstone Echoes. 

life like a fair and pleasant day; let the morning' sun of 
your existence drive away the gloom of night, arise in its 
noonday splendor to cheer and bless thei world, then gently 
sink in sublime simplicity beneath the western sea, leaving 
a brilliant halo to make the world rejoice that yO'U have 
lived. 



SHATTERED ROSES. 

EiGHTY-THEEE milestones have been passed since this lady 
started across the plains of time, but her love fo^r the beau- 
tiful has not vanished. Yesterday (September 12, 1896) 
there was placed in her hands a small box, having been ex- 
pressed from Marianna, Ark. Those soft, nimble fingers, 
faithful workers for more than three-fourtbs of a century, 
were hastened by a mind of curiosity to open the box, when 
— behold ! — shattered roses, withered flowers, were exposed 
to view. " Worthless, useless," do you say ? You may 
think so ; some would thus consider the^m ; but though much 
of their beauty has vanished, their fragrance departed, to 
her they retain both. They are emblenis of love fro^m 
unseen friends, ties tO' draw the heart of this noble woman 
toward those of her unseen sisters in the great cause she so 
much loves — the cause of Christ. 

It is sweet to be remembered by absent friends, and there 
is a feeling of peculiar appreciation when Icindly consid- 
ered by those we have never met. This is the feeling now 
' in the heart of this good woman, and she would like to ineet 



Shatte;re;d Roses. 8i 

those friends and verbally express her gratitude for their 
loving consideration. Circumstances will do'ubtless forbid 
this pleasure, but she hopes to meet them over yonder where 
flowers never wither. Exceedingly fond of flowers, na- 
ture's little eyes of beauty, she always took special delight 
in cultivating them until age gently removed the little hoe 
from her hand. She says persons who care nothing for 
flowers " do not love our Savior as they sho'uld." 

I watched her as she carefully, tenderly removed each 
little beauty from the box. She admired and commented 
on. all. Then I began to think of the great similarity be- 
tween flowers and our own lives. God made both, and for 
a noble purpose. Both can be useful in many ways ; both 
are frail and tender while very young, and must be ten- 
derly cared for, but are somewhat " toughened " by the 
atmosphere and o-ther surroundings ; both require food, wa- 
ter, light, heat, and air ; both need cultivation, in rich soil, 
by tender hands of those who' feel for them special interest ; 
both may be spoiled by neglect, also by overindulgence; 
both must die — may live to be withered by the frosts of 
time, may be snatched from the parent stem witho'Ut a. mo- 
ment's warning. While the bud is yet in its infancy, we can- 
not tell the color or the properties of the forthcoming flower. 
So in babyhood ; but as the petals open one by one, wei dis- 
cern the characteristics of the forthcoming man or woman. 

In that little box bed of choicest flowers were concealed 
many thorns. So life's beauties and joys are interspersed 
with thorns of displeasure as well as with trials many and 



82 Hkarthston:^ Echoes. 

severe. Let us be cautious how we indulge by greedily 
dipping too deep into life's pleasures and luxuries, lest we 
are pierced by a thorn of deception. These flowers were 
apparently ruined, but by means of abundant moisture and 
fresh air they revived, and this morning many of them look 
beautiful. Thus human life may appear almost extinct, 
but by kind attention and medical skill, together with the 
dews of God's grace, it may revive and be pretty and useful 
still. When these little beauties of nature shall have all 
faded and passed away, the memory of them and of the 
thoughtful donor will still linger fresh in the mind of the 
receiver; for 

" You may break, you may shatter the vase, if you will, 
But the scent of the roses will hang round it still " 

in the form of sweet- memory. So the life of a Christian 
may fade away, his body may return to mother clay ; yet his 
works will remain. In the fond memory of loved ones he 
will still linger, and, although dead, will yet speak. 

In many respects this lady reminds me of these shat- 
tered roses. Like them, she has been shaken by the jars of 
time and of a long, wearisome journey, until her body is 
naturally somewhat shattered. In the long ago her erect 
figure, her firm flesh, and her strong muscles indicated 
more than an ordinary constitution. Her black, curly 
hair ; sparkling, brown eyes ; features, regular and smooth j 
complexion, fair and aglow with the roses of health — these 
^gave her an attractive appearance, at least to her loved 



Shattere;d Rose;s. 83 

ones ; while she possessed an amiable, sweet disposition that 
won innumerable friends. In the sick room she had btit 
few superiors. She was a messenger of love., with willing 
hands always finding som.ething to do; she was a sunbeam 
to divert the attention from ailments and calamities; she 
was as a garland of flowers with good cheer for the suffer- 
ing, discouraged invalid. Flowers may wilt, but still be fra- 
grant and their colors bright. This dear old Christian pil- 
grim's features are somewhat withered by the frosts of 
more than fourscore winters ; yet her mind remains remark- 
ably clear; vision, splendid; disposition, sweet and cheery. 
She grows old gracefully, and is still gentle and lovely — 
a character to be admired. Time may blight the rose and 
deprive it of beauty and fragrance, but where it has cher- 
ished associations it will, like " a flower from an angel moth- 
er's grave," be prized as a sweet relic of the golden yesterdays. 
This loving old grandmother may be so blighted by age; ; her 
step, once so elastic, may become so enfeebled; those eyes,, 
so dim ; the ears, so " dull of hearing ; " the hair, so 
bleached; the once erect shoulders, so stooped imder the 
heavy pressure of years, as to cause her, by some, to be con- 
sidered homely and useless ; but to the heart of love she is 
" young and beautiful still." 

Many, many flowers and buds were tastily arranged in 
the little box which was opened yesterday — ^far more than 
we would have thought it could contain. Many — O, so 
many ! — are the kindly virtues, noble qualities, crowded into 
the general make-up of this little woman. We did not 



84 He;arthston:^ Echoes. 

realize the beauty of the box until its contents "were closely 
esamined; likewise, those who know her well are the only 
ones who can realize her worth. The same can be said 
concerning any noble, consistent, Christian character. 



HOW TO BE MISERABLE. 

Be idle. Why ? Because while " he that labors may 
be tempted by one demon, he that is idle is tempted by a 
thousand." 

Cherish Discontent (oldest child of Idleness). 

Live always in the " golden past." 

Worry constantly about " to-morrow." 

Encourage fretfulness and scolding; for they will never 
bring out Christian graces, any more than a March north- 
easter will cause the honeysuckles to bloom. 

If perchance a spirit of love or kindness springs up with- 
in your heart, crush it as you would crush a deadly viper. 

Stir the cup of affection with an icicle. 

Take no advice ; learn only in the bitter school of expe^ 
rience. 

Deal in " futures." 

Sleep away the best part of the morning, lest you be- 
come famous; for 

" The heights by great men reached and kept 
Were not attained by sudden flight; 
But they, while their companions slept, 
Were toiling upward in the night." 



How TO Bs Miserable. 85 

Try to darken, waste, and impair life's best activities. 
Live for nothing ; have no purpose. 
Linger near the trap that has once eaisnared you. 
Be as " moody " as possible. 

Sit in " grumble comer " night and day, and you will 
have a genuine attack of heart, fever. 

Waste your best opportunities, thus securing abundant 

want. 

Pine over your losses; magnify your crosses; take no no- 
tice of your many blessings. 

Pray without working. 

Confide in riches. 

If you make a great mistake, repeat it. 

Lose command of yourself; then you need not worry 
about trying to control others. 

Cleave to that which is evil ; abhor that which is good. 

Disdain the idea of laboring. 

Be indolent. True, the door of success is labeled 
" Push," and Ben. Eranklin says, " Plow deep while slug- 
gards sleep, and yeu shall have com to sell and keep ; " but 
take courage, be slothful, and you shall escape the annoy- 
ance of the sale and the trouble of keeping. 

Close your eyes to the beautiful; close your ears to the 

truth. 

Be like the clematis, which always climbs about on it- 
self, losing sight of the trellis that supports it. 

If in doubt, give up in despair. " Industry pays debts, 
while despair increases them." 



86 Hkarthstone Echoes. 

Be cross while others are pleasant, but never pleasant 
while others are cross. 

Watch the man or the woman who fails, then " go, and 
do thou likewise.*' 

Carry the key to everybody's business chest. 

If any one asks you for a favor, give him your fist. 

If your enemy hunger, curse him ; if he thirst, give him 
" strong drink." 

Always practice naughty manners, for " manners make 
the man." 

There is always " room at the top ; " sO' stay at the bot- 
tom, where you will not be alona 

Crush out and bury sweet memories, and on their grave 
plant only the bitter seed of doleful bygones. 

If your parents reprove you for your wrong doings, avoid 
their society. 

Object to all your mother, wife, and sister do ; or if you 
chance to approve of something, be sure not to tell them so. 
If they ask for your assistance, give them your tongue. 

When you reach home from work or school, do not for- 
get to abruptly ask if dinner is ready and if there is fresh 
water drawn. 

The complexion of home life depends upon the disposi- 
tion of the inmates ; sO' be as sour as possible. Strong acid 
paints home " blue," 

Keep your mind corrupt by feeding it on froth — by read- 
^ ing impure literature. 

Inasmuch as lieth in you, live " at outs " with all men. 



How TO BK MISERABI.E. 87 

With all your getting, get contention. It is easy to be 
pleasant when everything goes right. 

Encourage evil thoughts ; for as a man " thinkeith in his 
heart, so is he." 

Always be despondent, and the cobwebs will grow thick 
over your brain. 

Cultivate anger; it is a disagreeable feeling, and will 
greatly aid in rendering yourself and others miserable. 

Spend half of life soiwing " wild oats ; " the other half 
will give you employment — reaping the harvest. 

Become a chronic fault-finder, so you will not have to. 
" go in a gang by yourself." 

Use every device to obtain money, for "the shortest cut 
to poverty is trying to get rich in a hurry." 

xiscertain what your specialty is, then disregard it and 
try every other vocation. 

Always be assured that the wrong ofiicers have been 
elected. 

Trust false friends. Like your shadow, they stay by you 
in sunshine, but forsake you in the shade. 

Eush headlong through life, forgetting that it is by pa- 
tience the mulberry leaf is changed to silk. 

j^ourish the bitter thorns of strife; and wherever you 
go, scatter thistle seeds. 

If you suffer financial loss, spend your time moaning 
and pining over what is gone, never thinking of what is left- 
Annoy your neighbors with all your troubles ; get them to 
help to take care of your " family jars." 



88 Hkarthstone; Echoe;s. 

Search younseK for yoair virtues; search your neighbor 
for his faults. 

" If at first you don't succeed, try, try " no mO'r©. 

Live without aim, for a steady purpose is one secret of 
progress. 

If you desire anything done, go to the man of leisure, for 
he never has time for anything. 

Always have the " blues," and divide them with eveiry- 
body around you. 

Think and talk about how much worse the world is be- 
coming. 

Study much about things you want, but cannot obtain. 

If you hear anything good about your neighbor, deny it. 

Sponge on your friends and relatives; they will not 
see you starve. Ben. Franklin says : " To be thrown upon 
one's resources is to be cast into the very lap of Fortune.'' 
So be sure not to rely on yourself, and you can easily keep 
out of Fortune's lap. 

If you can do nO' deed except a good one, do nothing; 
if you can speak naught but a kind word, remain silent; 
if nothing but pure thoughts flit through your mind, put 
your brain to sleep. 

Shun education and morality; they are forces that heilp 
to move the world. 

Frequent the saloons ; carry with you a diploma from the 
rum shop — a red nose. 

Stand in your own light and fight your own shadow. 

Object evermore; pout without ceasing. 



How TO Bk Miserable. 89 

Ben. rranklin suggests : " If a man empties his purse 
into his head, no one can take it from him." Empty yours 
into your throat. 

Wear a long face; refrain from smiling. 

Spend a little faster than you make. The way you spend 
your income is an index to your financial hrain. 

Lavishly spend all your dimes, and your dollars will not 
trouble you. 

Let your expenses always exceed your income. 

If your salary is small, spend it in fast living; if you 
receive only four cents a day, spend five cents. 

Light your money in the end of a cigar. 

Wear your best clothes every day, and perhaps some one 
will be silly enough to think fine clothes make a fine " gen- 
tleman." 

" If sinners entice thee, consent thou " in all things. 

xlvoid instruction^ for " whoso' laveth instruction loveth 
knowledge." 

If you have nothing to say, say much ; for " even a fool, 
when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise: and he that 
shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding " 
(Prov. 17: 28); and "whoso keepeth his mouth and his 
tongue Jieepeth his soul from troubles " (Prov. 21: 23). 

If you have a good reputation, cry it down. You can 
crush it in a little while, but it will take years to regain it. 

In those quiet, serious moments that come to all of us, 
study all about how sad your condition is and how gloomy 
your prospect. 



90 Hkarthstone Echoes. 

" Creeds are narrow ; truth is wide." So select some 
narrow, shaky plank of opinion, only broad enough for 
" you and your wife ; your son, John, and his wife — you 
four, and no more," and walk thereon until you fall hence. 

When you awake in health, always forget to thank your 
God. 

Pray for daily breads then wait for the eorn to come to 
you already " shelled." 

Disregard the laws of nature and of God, then censure 
Heaven for letting you suffer the penalty. 

Consider everything on earth impure, and Heaven will 
have no use for you. 

Observe these simple rules and " apply externally, inter- 
nally, and eternally," and I will guarantee them to perma- 
nently cure the malady of happiness or contentment. 

For reliable testimonials, apply to Mr. Talk And Do 
Nothing, Grumble Corner, Misery; also to Miss Tonguie 
See Bonnyface, 13 Disconsolate avenue, Tattler's Bend, 
Idleho. 

Por further information, inclose a two-cent stamp for 
free samples and catalogue of particulars to the firm of 
Do Little & Steal, Pouting Furnace, Loafer County, U- 
make-us-go. 



In spoiling a girl, you make trouble for her husband ; in 
spoiling a boy, you make trouble for his wife. This trouble 
will be realized by and by. 



Forest JeweivS. 91 

FOREST JEWELS, 

The forests seem vain of their glory to-day. Tliey stand 
out on dress parade, sporting ^vith the sunbeams. Each 
tree is arrayed in brightness., each bough weighted down with 
little jewels of sparkling brilliancy. 

Yesterday and to-day the wind and sunshine have been 
striving for the mastery, the sunshine trying to melt these 
jewels into tears, and the north wind consolidating them, con- 
densing the tears into' sparkling beads, which, like diamonds, 
reflect the sun's bright rays. The forests stand-in shining 
array, each tree stiffening itself as if proud of its jeweled 
tresses ; but though this crystal drapery is showy and beau- 
tiful, it is cold and disagreeable — kept so by winter^s chilly 
breath — while the cheerful, sunny-faced day king would 
fain relieve the trees of their icy mantle and rob© them with 
foliage tender and green. 

We have many bright-eyed " little jewels " in our homes, 
our schools, our Sunday schools — jewels of worth, fast dcr 
veloping into diamonds of grandeur' that shine resplendent 
in Heaven's true light. 

Let us learn a lesson from the little icicle, the crystal 
pendant of the forest. While King Winter is preparing 
his subjects for their icy garments, he deprives them, leaf 
by leaf, of their beautiful robes of gold and green ; so while 
the proud heart is preparing itself for vain display of gold 
and precious stones, it gradually lays aside its vestures of 
holiness, then dons those of visible splendor. Again, when 
the warming beams of the morning sun begin to shine upon 



92 Hearthstone Echoes. 

the ice-crowned trees, we see proud nature's tears begin to 
fall; then, one hj one, the icicles, whether pearly heads 
or glittering spears, will loose their hold and fall to 
the ground. Likewise^ when the Sun of Eighteousness 
pours his healing beams through the gospel into the heart of 
nature's wayward child, some of the vain display of this world 
will fall, like cold and weighty icicles ; the remainder, as tears 
of penitence; and he will turn his weary, wandering, trem- 
bling feet toward the Father's house. Let us ever keep our 
hearts open to the reception of God's truth and grace; let 
these melt the icicles clinging to our cold and weak natures, 
warm our affections, encourage us, and impress us anew 
with a realization of our own dependence and with a deeper, 
stronger, truer love for God and for earth's weary pilgrims 
to the " summer land." 



LIFE— WHAT IS IT? 

You quickly say it is nothing but a flower or a song; 
that as a " flower of the grass," it soon withers ; that as a 
song, it is wafted away on the evening breeze. Then if it 
is a flower, let it be the rose of happiness, the lily of purity, 
or the dandelion — the pledge of blithesome May; nourish 
it, cherish it, train it, that it may bloom in beauty here and 
finally be transplanted in the " garden of delights." If it 
is a song, keep your voice clear and soft, and sweetly sing 
'it to the tune, " Praise God, from Whom All Blessings 
Flow." 



lyiFB — What Is It? 93 

Tou believe it is more like a haleidoscope. Close your 
eyes to everything else, turn it in every direction, and each, 
angle will present new beauties. 

You say it is only a huhhle floating on the bosom of time's 
turbulent sea. Then, ere it bursts, throw on the light and 
let the bubble reflect the hand of divinity. 

You compare it to a vapor, a span, " a tale that is told." 
As a vapor, let it carry the fragrance of loving-kindness to 
the sin-sick soul ; as a span, reach across it with the hand of 
charity ; as " a tale that is told," may it b© the same " old, 
old story of Jesus and his love." 

You now regard it as a composite tiling — a kind of mo- 
saic. Then select such precious stones as humility, kind- 
ness, integrity, sympathy, patient endurance', fidelity, and 
charity, and arrange the (folors to spell the words " God is 
love." 

You call it a play on the great stage of action. Then 
play your part well. Do not, by your awkwardness or lack 
of skill, make your Trainer ashamed of you. The time 
of aetion is short ; the effect may be unlimited. " God 
is the Author; men are only players. These grand 
pieces which are played upon earth have been composed in 
heaven." 

I*Tow you are considering life as a pilgrimage or journey. 
How unwise you are, then, if you stray from the right road 
and do not return till the twilight shadows gather thick and 
dark around your pathway ! However, if numb and weary 
on the mountain you have to sleep in the snow, try to warm 



94 Hearthstone) BcHo:es. 

that freezing form beside you, and thus you will both, be 
benefited. 

You say it is a wilderness^ and you sing: 

" This world's a wilderness of woe." 

If you think thus, you should carry with you the torchlight 
of immortality, that you may keep' out of the marshes and 
jungles and carefully avoid the pitfalls by the^ way. 

You say it is a desert^ with blazing sun and scorching 
sands. Look ! Yonder is an enticing oasis, yonder is an- 
other, and still another. Go tO' them for rest and comfort., 
and there slake your mental thirst. 

You say it is a dark, dismal cloud. Look for its silvery 
lining. 

"Alas, what a heavy hurden is life ! " you dolefully cry. 
Then lighten it and brighten it as much as possible by cast- 
ing off the superfluities. Assist your neighbor in bearing 
his burden, and God will help you to bear yours. Patiently 
carry it to him who' in tears and blood has traveled the samie 
road; humbly and prayerfully lay it at his feet; do' as he 
directs, and he will give you rest. 

" Life is a fearful storm/' you say. How little infatu- 
ated you are if you can sleep while your bark is being driven 
amidst unknown waters ! Listen to the tempest's voicei, and 
see the lightning's fiery tongue' flash athwart the heave^ns ! 
Arise, go and kneel on " Calvary's bleeding brow," place 
your hands together above your bowed head, and meekly 
sina: : 



lyiPK — What Is It? 95 

" Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
Let me hide myself in ttee." 

What is life ? You sa j it is a little rivulet flowing down 
a mountain side over rocks and tlirougli deep gorges. Then, 
as you float down the stream, fringe its banks with flowers ; 
sow them thick with seeds of loving-kindness. 

As a hroad, deep ocean you see it now. Be a lighthouse, 
so that when the storm-tossed mariner is " rocked upon the 
raging billows " you may warn him of thei deadly breakers. 

Your vision has suddenly contracted. You now see life 
as nothing more than a small, pale, delicate plant. Then 
remove it from the hothouse of your narrow opinions ; give 
it the air and sunlight of God's truth ; let it be watered by 
the gentle dews of his grace; do not suffer it to be crowded 
Avith worthless weeds of worldly ambition to steal away its 
richest soil; forget not tO' fertilize it with the Christian 
graces. 

^ow you say it is a garden or parh. True ; and it con- 
tains not only its " tree of the knowledge of good and evil," 
but its forbidden fruit as well. It is both an, Eden and a 
Gethsemaneu 

It is a candle^ you have decided. Place it not " un- 
der a bushelj" neither behind a screen of gold, but upon a 
" candlestick ; " then with it " search diligently " until you 
find some "lost coin" (lost soul), thus making the angels 
rejoice. 

It is an liourglass. Well, " life is not measured by the 
time we live," but by the good we do. " He lives twice 



96 Hearthstone Echoes. 

who lives the first life well." As one by one the little grains 
of sand pass through the glass, let them sparkle with deeds of 
kindness and love. 

It is a tangled skein. Then " let patience have her per- 
fect work." 

ISi'ow it is more like a hall of yarn. Are yon not busy 
knitting ? " Click, click ! " go your needles. Stitch by 
stitch your work is finished. Your ball will soon be un- 
wound. See that your work is not rough and knotty. May 
your thread prove smooth and strong all the way through, 
not wound on a large center (heart) of worthless material. 
Such is the hypocrite's ball. 

Now it is a mixture — a regular " bittersweet." Give 
thanks to God for the sweet, and with it try to sweeten the 
bitter. 

Life is an echo. Then use words and tones you will 
not object to having repeated. Do not let the echo be like 
the sob of a mighty sea, but like an angel's song of peace and 
good will. 

It is a phonograph. Are you willing for your life work 
to be preserved and given over and over to the promiscuous 
world ? 

"Now it is a kind of ore — a peculiar composition of gold 
and silver, iron and clay: and Tennyson says: 

"And heated hot with burning fears, 
And dipped in baths of hissing tears. 
And battered with the shocks of doom. 
To shape and use." 



lyii^E — What Is It? 97 

With chisel and file shape it as nearly like the divine im- 
age as you can, then leave it in the hands of the great Sculp- 
tor. " Tie will treat you right." 

" ' Life is but an empty dream,' " you have decided. Then 
feast on wholesome spiritual food, so the dream will not end 
in a frightful nightmare. 

" It is merely a sliadow," some one has whispered to you. 
Then stand not in the light of those who want to see, but 
stand where you can screen some one from the parching 
rays of persecution. 

But your vision has again expanded. You are now gaz- 
ing at a great menagerie composed of persons whose natures 
represent all kinds of animals. Then you be sure to keep 
on the plain of the highest ones. Do not cultivate the cat 
and dog nature — sly and stealthy or ready to bite, scratch, 
or snarl on the slightest provocation. Be not the parrot^ — ^ 
merely an echo or imitator — ^with noi ideas of your own; 
nor the stupid sponge, firmly stationed on«the rock of do- 
nothing, absorbing all you can and keeping all you get; nor 
yet the vulture, always seeking that which is unclean and 
disagreeable. Be not the terrapin, carrying all your pos- 
sessions on your back. Be not the monkey — merely a 
shrewd beggar, though a fine mimic ; nor the swine, caring 
only for what you consume ; neither the stinging wasp of 
scandal nor the kicking mule of stubbornness. By no means 
be the porcupine, with quills of sensitiveness projecting 
in every direction, ready to pierce even your very best 
friends. " Beware of dogs," '"' neither cast your pearls 



98 Hbarthstons Echoes. 

before swine; " try to induce " the lion and the lamb " to 
be congenial. Be the ingenious ant, laying up your win- 
ter store at the proper time; and the gentle dove, carrying 
in your mouth the olive branch of peace instead of the tongue 
of slander. By all means avoid being the " dog in the man- 
ger " or a " wolf in sheep's clothing." 

You represent life as a great canvas. See that it is 
stretched smoothly on a substantial frame^ and you can 
paint thereon a superb picture ; learn tO' mix your colors to 
advantage and handle your brush with skill and grace ; bring 
out your high lights, deepen your shadows, then usei your 
blender to soften the effect; let the frame be oak or wal- 
nut, bronze or gold; and when your painting is finished, 
it will be left hanging in the hall of your friends' memory 
to remind them that your life was not a failure. 

You say it is a circle of seasons. Spend the balmy 
springtime sowing the seed from which you desire tO' reap 
a bountiful harvest in summer and autumn; then in winter 
you will enjoy the golden fruits ; and, having completed the 
circle, you will enter the spring of another existence. 

You si>eak of it as a succession of hills and valleys. 
Climb the hills patiently, and the task will be easy. Many 
of the tallest mountains are only imaginary difficulties 
which vanish on approach. While you are in the valley, 
look upAvard for the stars. 

But you are older now, and you view life as more real. 
You see in it much to do. You compare the world to a 
schoolroom, a workshop, a beehive, an art gallery. Then, with 



Life;— What" Is It? 99 

Christ as your teacher, try to properly educate your heart ; 
and be a student, not metrely a school goer. Keep your tools 
bright by use; let them, not rust in the tool chesti. B© a 
working bee, not the despised drone to be stung fro^m; the 
hive in derision. See, by all means, that you make a good 
negative; then test your proof; see that it brings out the 
proper expression; use reliable chemicals and good mate- 
rial all the way through ; and neglect not to give your pic- 
ture the proper " finishing touch." 

Now you are looking at life as a building. Very well. 
If you will lay an imperishable foundation, usei none but 
the best material^ see that the work is well done, then keep 
it well insured in the never-failing company of Heaven, 
your house will stand the storms of tima 

You speak of the mystic loom of life, and say we are all 
weavers. Select a suitable design and imitate it, using col- 
ors that will not fade; for, as suggested by the sweety but 
lamented, writer, "Ailenroc," 

" When the day is done^ the loom is still, 
And the arm no longer obeys the will; 
When the nerveless hands the shuttles drop 
And the tired feet the treadles stop — 
Then, before the Master's eyes, unrolled, 
Lies the long day's work heaped fold on fold." 

YoTi say it k a race, like that of Olympia. Then " lay 
aside every weight, . . . and run with patience.' 
The victor's rtward shall be a Grown — not here, but at the 
end of the race; not of withering olive leaves, but of life 
evermore. 

L. Oi V, 



loo He^arthstone; Echoes. 

Bj this time experience has convinced you that life is a 

iaftle. 

Then, my comrade, up and doing, 

With bright armor — sword and shield! 
Still aspiring, still pursuing. 
Drive the foe from every field. 

Arm yourself well for the conflict. Do' not shrink back 
into your tent while the battle is raging, neither try tO' hide 
when your name is called on the muster roll. Stand firm 
at your post of duty. Lift your' head and gird yourself 
for brave and cheerful toil. March when your Commander 
says, " Go ; " stop at his command ; fire when he says., "Fire ; " 
"ground arms " and put your sword into its sheath at his 
liidding. Be sure you have enlisted in the right army, and 
keep on the proper uniform, lest you be mistaken for the 
enemy, l^eveir prove traitor. Use proper weapons, then 
beware lest you fire at the wrong party. " Stonewall " 
Jackson was sorely wounded by his own men, who almost 
worshiped him, which injury probably led tO' his death. 
Many unconsciously fight and spiritually wound valiant 
soldiers in the Lord's army, when they really believe they 
are fighting Satan and his host. Lee spoke of it as losing 
his own right arm when Jackson fell. Thus our great Co'm- 
mander claims the injury when his soldiers are maftreated 
" Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ? " As a good " sol- 
dier of the cross," avoid rashness ; consider well ; be vigi- 
lant ; be brave ; be faithful. Then, after the hardships of 
war are over, your rest will be sweet; your glory, bright 
after the darkness is past; your victory, grand after the 



Filling the Grave. ioi 

conflict is over. " There are victories to be won more glo- 
rious than those of the historic fields of the world's con- 
flict— evil habits to be subdued, passions to be overcome, 
temptations to be resisted, and life consecrated tO' noble pur- 
pose." Avoid all warfare that brings carnage and blood- 
shed, but bravely fight in the army of the Lord. 

You speak of it as a watchtower. Then, " watchman, 
what of the night ? " 

At last you think of life as one brief day. Then, for 
humanity's sake, place in it as little clond and as much 
shine as possible. Life's sun, sinking in the west, " shines 
back on clouds unremoved and intensifies their blackness; 
but good deeds, spots of radiance, are even brighter because 
of his searching beams. Do not blacken the morning sky 
with evil deeds; do not^ after a glorious morning, cut off 
the sun in his noonday splendor ; do' not, after a fine morn- 
ing and glorious noonday, place along the evening horizon 
a somber cloud to o-vershadow those who have been watch- 
ing yonr life with such intense anxiety, pleasure, and hop©." 
'' Dost thou love life ? Then squander not time, for that 
is the stuff life is made of." 



FILLING THE GRAVE. 

Much has been justly said and written concerning the 
large, warm heart of the Irishman — of his devotion and 
fidelity to those he loves. Live worthy of his esteem, and 
as a rule, he will almost die by you. 



I02 Hearthstone; Echoes. 

More than two decades ago one of Ireland's native sons, 
Mr. John Patterson, was employed by an old gentleman I 
well knew to do some farm work. He was alone and de- 
jected, thousands of miles from home and relatives. The 
blue Atlantic — so broad, so deep — lay between him and the 
home of his youth. All his near relatives, except one sis- 
ter, slept beneath British soil. He was among strangers, 
without money^ and in feeble health. But the friendly 
steamer that landed him safe on America's soil did not fail 
to bring with him that large, faithful Irish heart, which 
soon won for him many friends. He became devoutly at- 
tached to the noble elderly couple who had shared with him 
their splendid, comfortable, and hospitable home, and he 
loved each member of the family. For a little grandson of 
theirs, then a wee infant^, he soon began to manifest fond 
attachment, which grew stronger with the passing years. 
He would gladly linger in the grove around the country 
church and " take care of the baby " during services. When 
this babe was a little less than two years old, his friend was 
caring for him during the services of a protracted meet- 
ing, and one day let him go to see what he would do. The 
wee one quickly started toward home, not knowing he was 
so closely watched. After some distance the road diverged 
into three. The boy paused, turned this way and that, 
quickly surveyed the three roads, looked very serious for 
a moment; then, with a look of assurance, a brightened 
countenance, and quickened step, he started homeward, to the 
great delight of his kind watcher, who thought it marvel- 



Filling the Grave. 103 

ous that his little charge could know which road he was in 
the habit of traveling. By this time the vigilant friend 
had permitted the child tO' get a good way ahead of him, 
and, being very feeble, found it rather difficult to overtake 
him. So he spoke excitedly to a man who was passing on 
a mule, " Head that boy ! " which request was readily 
granted. 

At any time when this child would see Mr. Patteirson re- 
turning from work, he, with ready little feet and with 
chubby, dimpled hands uplifted, would run tO' meet him 
at the front gate, his prattling tongue joyfully exclaiming : 
" 0, Pash ! Pash ! " I*^o matter how far the man. had 
walked or how hard and rough had been his work, he was 
never too tired to take the child into his arms, carry him 
into the house, and entertain him with a little fond play. 

Years have sped away. Fleet-winged time has wro'Ught 
many changes. Two other little jewels were set. in that 
family ring. Years after this the ring was broken, and the 
first jewel dropped out. That boy was there no' longer to 
brighten the lives of his parents, grandparents, or his good 
old friend. iN'ear the same countiy church, two miles from 
that loved old home, to-day (February 1, 1902) a white 
mantle let down from the clouds keeps the cold north wind 
from his lowly bed in the " silent city," and a marble shaft 
tells us where his body lies, while loved ones sadly miss him 
from the fireside. 

The devotion of this Irish friend had grown stronger and 
stronger, and was much appreciated by the boy and his par- 



I04 Hearthstone; Kchoss. 

ents. After tlie little moiind was raised^ this man toiiicli- 
ingiy said to the weeping parents : " Yon need not be afraid 
of that grave's being neglected while I live." His word 
has proved true, as it always does. Month after month, 
year after year, he has carried his shovel two miles, filled 
every sunken portion of the grave, and watched after it with 
proverbial devotion. His long-continued attention is suffi- 
cient to cause others to say: "'Behold how he loved him !'" 
Sometimes the gentle zephyrs fan the cedars that wave over 
the inclosure', the mocking bird sings praises therei, and the 
lark warbles a welcome to its mate' ; sometimes the dewdrop 
paints a little rainbow and throws kisses at the morning 
sun; sometimes the drought parches the clay lips that seal 
from human sight the once stalwart figure of that boy; 
but this same faithful watcher carries the key to the iron 
gate and forgets not his charge. The bodies of the dear 
old couple he so much loved now sleep in the same family 
inclosure ; and their graves, as well as those of th.eir de- 
parted children, are cherished, filled, and guarded by him 
with the same tender love. Sometimes frost nips the buds, 
paints the foliage, and drives the birds to the far-away 
sunny Southland^ while on that hillside " the seeds of the 
future are sleeping under the leaves of the past; " but those 
hallowed mounds are not neglected. Sometimes when even 
the rippling streams are frozen over and the trees are brown 
and bare, he rides through bleak forest and barren meadow 
from the dear old cottage home to the churchyard to see if 
the graves need care. 



Pay Day. 105 

When his earth life^ shall be ended^ when those industri- 
ous hands shall have grasped for the last time their shovel 
and spade, when his woTn-out body shall be sleeping on the 
same quiet hillside, may some thoughtful friend be left to 
see that his " grave is kept green : " for hard indeed is the 
heart, that would neglect him. If living, I want to claim 
the pleasure of assisting in at least raising a marble shaft 
in his memory over his grave as near as possible to the 
graves he has so long and so tenderly watched. 

For many years he has been a faithful soldier of the 
cross, keeping his armor far brighter than many with bet- 
ter advantages. We trust that he will live prepared for 
the blessed land that needs no graves. 



PAY DAY, 

Yes^ pay day is coming by and by. How does your ac- 
count stand? Have you had a reckoning? If you neglect 
this duty, you will be astonished when you go to make a set- 
tlement. Unless you keep a regular memorandum, your 
account will be greater than you think. How many times 
have you ever found it less than you expected ? How often 
have you found it greater ? 

Occasionally our good and reliable merchants make a 
slight mistake, which they will as readily rectify when their 
attention is called thereto ; but, as a rule, the error is ours. 
It is often hard for us to distinguish between our needs and 
cur wants ; so we many times buy articles we do not espe- 



io6 Hkarthstone Echoes. 

cially need, and which, thereif ore, make no vivid impression 
on our minds. Soon we forget having bought them; and 
when pay day comes and our attention is called to these 
little items, we are sometimes inclined to doubt the cor- 
rectness of the statement ; but on careful reflection, by look- 
ing over the list and observing the date of purchase, we, 
after a while, slowly and almost reluctantly call it to mem- 
ory, and find that the merchant was only faithful to his 
trust. 

A greater pay day is coming before long ; and while we 
have time and opportunity, we had better be examining the 
accounts and ascertaining how our records stand. Have 
we kept a faithful memorandum ? If not, we may be sure 
there is more charged against us than we imagine. Per- 
haps we have thoughtlessly purchased things just because 
we desired them and for which we had no special need ; per- 
haps we did not even ask the price, but simply permitted 
the merchant to charge them to our account. When 
pay day comes, we may find that they were more costly than 
we expected, and were probably not genuine articles. We 
thought they were " solid metal," but we now ascert.ain 
that they are only plated with silver and gold, and endure 
but for " a season ; " yet we must pay the full price. 

Young lady, for a long time you have been going to the store 
and purchasing little articles, with the understanding that 
" papa will make it all right " with the merchant ; but there 
is one account against you which your father cannot settle. 
It is your sin account. You must pay that account yourself, 



Pay Day. 1^7 

and no rednction whatever will be made in consequence of 

its being " yon." 

Yonng man, yonr father has been " standing good" for 
jou in yonr idle " trades." He has paid ont many hard- 
earned dollars to get yon ont of tronble ; he has settled many 
a store account and livery bill that y6u should not have in- 
curred, rather than have his boy entangled in the litigation 
of the country. At that great reckoning your good old fa- 
ther cannot stand between you and the Judge. 

Man, when you left those little children at home begging 
for food, clothing, and education, and that humble, faithful 
wife coaxing and pleading with you to stay with her and the 
little ones-I say, when you left them last night and went 
" up tow " and bought that jug of intoxicating fluid, did 
you ask its cost? Did the rumseller give you the price in 
dollars and cents ? If so, he deceived you. Its price can- 
not be thus estimated. To the value he placed upon it you 
may add hungry children's pleadings, good wife's prayers 
and tears, your own mental depression and spiritual decline. 
This will still be a low estimate to place upon it, for it may 
cost you far more than this, and yon may have to pay the 
full price — your own soul. 

Thus with all our rude, wicked pleasures. They may be 
gold-tinted, but are not genuine; they are only gilded with 
the brilliancy of frivolity, which corrodes as soon as exposed 
to the lii-ht of candid investigation. Our faithful Judge 
sits enthroned on high and makes no mistakes. It is much 
safer to "count the cost" and "pay as you go." Then 



io8 Hearthstonjs EcHo:es. 

when the time comes to " balance accounts/' you will feel 
siTch sweet relief by hearing: "Well donei, tho'U good and 
faithful customer ! Your account is settled ; you owe noth- 
ing. Moreover, this firm, kindly offers a magnificent pre- 
mium to those who purchase their goods and pay promptly. 
That premium is a crown of fadeless glory tO' be worn in 
the eternal paradise of God. Such is yours. Go to your 
reward." 

THE PROOF SHEET, 

Frequently when an article fro^m my pen appears in 
print, I am shocked^ mortified, and almost horrified at the 
errors I detect — ^mistakes in spelling, punctuation, or con- 
struction; mistakes I would gladly correct, if possible'^ be.- 
fore they meet the reader's eye. Sometimes these mistakes 
have been made by the publisher; sometimes, by myself; 
for both parties are human and liable to err. I would al- 
ways gladly read the proof sheet and correct the errors, but 
seldom have this privilege^ The errors goi before the pub- 
lic, and are often placed to my credit, whether justly so or 
not 

It is thus in life. We make many mistakes ; many others 
are made against us. Many of the mistakes we make we fail 
to realize at the time; many of those made against us we 
could probably correct if we knew it in time. We cannot 
possibly obtain a glance at the proof sheet, cannot republish 
the work of an hour or a moment ; so the record goes before 
the public. Each day is a page, and at dawn it is blank, pure. 



Thk Proof Sheet. 109 

white. On it we write, either for weial or for woe:. While 
writing, we should remember that we cannot seei the proof 
sheet ; therefore we should not use puzzling hieroglyphics, 
which might be incorrectly and mysteriously deciphered, 
but should writ© in an immistakable hand and have our ideas 
so clear as to be distinctly understood. 

The printer may innocently make mistakes (tO' err is hu- 
man). Many times we cast merciless reflections on an in- 
experienced printer for liis typographical errors. Think 
how many little pieces of type are picked up and an^anged 
in preparing each column for the press ! ISTo' wonder mis- 
takes are mada You and I might not do half so well. 
We should try it and see before we say too much. The very 
easiest work is to find fault, and the severest critics are often 
the ones who, know the least, especially about the subject 
considered. The school-teacher is unduly criticised, espe- 
cially by some who have never taught; the young, inex- 
perienced Christian is often condemned by those not doing 
half so well ; the preacher is censured by some who do' not 
know in which Testament to look for the book of Komans. 
If these unjust critics would only correct their thoughts. — 
the " proof sheet " of their rough comments — before the 
harsh words escape their lips, what relief ! 

The printer should remember that a blemish on his pa- 
per, a misspelled word, an incorrect verb, or even, an in- 
verted letter, will attraet more attention than many letters 
and words in their proper attitude. Likewise, we who wear 
the name of Christ should remember much is expected of 



no Hearthstone; Echoes. 

us, and any misstep or inconsistent act will attract more 
attention and receive more comment than many deeds of 
righteousness. Both should be careful to make as few 
blunders as possible. The publisher has one great advan-, 
tage, however : he can inspect all his work ; and, if he tries, 
he can correct his inaccuracies before they are brought to 
the public gaze; whereas in outer life our maneuvers are 
frequently made known, to otliers as readily as tO' ourselves. 
In our private meditations we should change, modify, and 
correct our formulated plans, and thus save ourselves muck 
trouble. 

The publisher should not claim to do good work unless 
capacitated and determined tO' do sot A man should not 
claim to be a first-class worker in the great vineyard unless 
his work will justify the " well done." "We usually know 
where we can have good printing done — by the samples sent 
forth ; we usually know where to find genuine Christians — 
" By their fruits ye shall know them." In this life we may 
be held responsible for errors made by others. Many an 
innocent man has gone to the gallows or the guillotine; 
many martyrs, in consequence of fidelity to^ their God, have 
been consumed by the maddening flames or tortured at the 
Bridge of Sighs. The innocent Son of Mary was nailed 
to the cross in consequence of the mistakes of others. But 
let us not be discouraged. The great Keeper of life's rec- 
ord makes no mistakes. His publishing apparatus is al- 
ways in perfect order; his mind, always clear. Hence the 
record will be true to life. If we could only be permitted 



How Ark You Buii^ding? hi 

to glance at tlie proof sheets of our characteirs ; if we could 
"see ourselves as others see us" and as we are viewed hj the 
all-seeing Eje, doubtless many times we would blusk and 
as many times turn pale, weep, and plead mth the record- 
ing angel to let us correct our blunders; but doubtless ho 
would calmly reply : " Your thoughts served as proof sheets 
for your characters; why did you not correct before send- 
ing to press ? You had a perfect model ; why did you not 
imitate it ? " 

HOW ARE YOU BUILDING? 

I. 

Intkoductoey illustration : Building a House. 

Consider the plan, material^ cost (weigh your pocket- 
book) ; employ workmen or a contractor; have a written 
agreement ; let the work begin. 

1. Foundation. Consider its importance; dig deep — 
down below the " frost line; " lay the foundation on solid 
clay or rock ; make a firm support for the superstructure — • 
a foundation " sure and steadfast," a foundation able to 
stand the fury of storms and sweeping floods. 

2. Framework. Select only strong, sound, solid mate- 
rial ; then see that all parts are well braced, 

3. Carefully measure each piece of material. 

4. Have all the work well done, leaving no " loose 
screws," no crevices to be hidden by additional molding. 

5. See well to the covering; let it turn both rain and 
snow. 



112 Hearthstone Echoes. 

6. Look after the heating capacity. See to the chimneys 
and flues; let them not be mere smokestacks; they should 
both draw well and throw out heat. 

7. Let the painting be well done, so' that the building 
will not soon become weather-beaten. Consider durability 
as well as appearance. 

8. Pay the workmen or the contractor not in prom^ises 
alone; you are not satisfied with pro^mised work. 

9. Use taste and skill in furnishing your house^ Har- 
mony between house and contents should be considcired. 

10. Have the house and the furnishings well insured; 
compare companies, and patronize the one you believe most 
reliable. 

11. Keep your dues thoroughly paid up; yet. try to pro- 
tect the property from damage. Do not be careless because 
of insurance. 

II. 

God has wisely constructed for each of us a house — ^the 
body, which is the temporal palace of the soul. He is the 
great Architect. He has ''■' counted the cost ; " he has 
wisely planned the structure, " like unto himself " — hence 
" up to date," of good material, adapted to his purpose ; 
he has laid the proper foundation ; he has executed his plans 
in ways satisfactory to reasonable and uncomplaining mor- 
tals, but best understood by himself ; he has selected strong, 
durable material (bones) for the framework; and he has 
wisely protected all the delicate parts (eyes, lungs, etc.) 
by proper bracing and projections. Each piece is meas- 



How Are; You Building? 113 

ured, is an exact fit. This great Arcliitect does joint work 
— makes no mistakes. Wlien mistakes are made, some 
other agency is at fault. 

The building is now well finished, and he has placed fire 
therein, has tested it, has breathed into the nostrils the 
breath of life. He has painted the building, has tinted it 
with the glow of health; he has inhabited it with a living 
spirit — the man proper. 

Kow, having done his work well and provided all kinds 
of material, he leaves man to furnish the building accord- 
ing to his own taste. He has placed before him the good, 
the bad; the wholesome, the poisonous; the elevating, the 
degrading; the perfect, the deformed; the beautiful and 
sublime, the homely and ridiculous ; also dirt, in mournful 
abundanca Each piece of material is labeled and its qual- 
ities are described. Full and free, instructions are given as to 
how the building can be fitted up for the happiness and well- 
being of its possessor, also for his misery and destruction. 
So if man selects the wrong furnishings, he alone is to be 
censured. God does not force him to select the best; for 
this would depriye him of volition, without which man 
would not be man. 

III. 

Character building is only furnishing the house we live 
in, the structure God has erected as the temporal residence 
of the soul. An ideal character is pictured out before us. 
We have explicit directions for imitating him, and the ma- 
terial is supplied. 



114 Hkarthstone; Echoes. 

In arranging a room, Ave do not first crowd it with heavy 
furniture, which will have to be lifted or rolled from place 
to place while we spread, stretch, and tack down the- carpetw 
"We first carefully put down the carpet, see that it is straight 
and free from wrinkles^ then bring in and arrange the other 
articles according to taste and convenience. ITeither do 
we fill the apartment with articles which are not only ex- 
pensive, but also useless, ugly, unclean ; which will not only 
soil our apparel and other things coming in contact with 
them, but will endanger our health, our intellects, our morals. 

In establishing a character, dig deep; lay a solid foun- 
dation on the bed rock of sincerity — ^not on the shaky, miry 
quicksands of doubt and fickleness. Spread your carpet 
carefully ; stretch out the wrinkles of skepticism, and hypoc- 
risy ; see that it is straight and smooth ; then make it secure. 
Kow bring in your furniture, gracefully arrange your 
drapery, and decorate your walls. The inhabitant of this 
wonderful character structure, also, is permitted to select for 
himself. Before him, side by side, are placed good and 
evil — the tree of life and the fruit forbidden. Of which 
"will he partake ? One is labeled, " Eat and live forever; " 
the other^ " In the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt 
surely die." In other words, bountiful material is at his 
door, both good and bad. He may fill his house with the 
choicest articles, and be happy and useful ; or he may fill it 
with vile rubbish, and be miserable throughout time and 
eternity. He may choose as he will. Which do you think 
the man will select ? Before him are placed humility, love. 



How Are You Buii<ding? "S 

integrity; arrogance, hatred, falsehood. Which, will he 
choose ? Suppose he gradually, but knowingly and volun- 
tarily, collects into his new, clean palace all the foul rub- 
bish it can contain. Suppose he refuses the chaste and se^ 
lects the vile; lines his house with unsightly pictures and 
paintings, then fills his brain with obscenei literature^ Sup- 
pose he is careful to keep his eyes on that which is wicked, 
his feet treading the paths of vice, hi& voice tuned to un- 
chaste music (?). Suppose, instead of gathering sweet, 
wholesome herbs, he looks around until he finds a filthy, 
nauseating weed, then chews that and casts from his mouth 
the disgusting saliva ; again, dries some of the weed, and, 
with its assistance, converts his throat into, a chimney and 
his nose into a double smokestack. Suppose he opens wide 
his throat and swallows thei demon drink, when, he knows 
full well that it will derange his physical makerup and 
spread cobwebs thick over his brain. Suppose he now opena 
those polluted lips and thence pours forth bitter oaths and 
violent rebukes against those intrusted to his care, cursing 
even the God who made him after such a noble pattern and 
provided him with such bounty. Suppose he crowds into 
his beautiful building the very elements that the book of 
instruction plainly says will cast him into an abode of ever- 
lasting misery and woa Suppose he refuses to pay the in- 
surance, denies the debt, finds fault with the Master Builder, 
harshly criticises the plan and work, defying the very pow- 
ers of Heaven, yet claiming a full share of its glory. 
Does man ever act thus ? 



ii6 Hearthstone Echoes 

IV. 

Let us glance at some of the rough, impure, unsightly 
articles of furniture that many persons have selected for the 
temporal homes of their souls — persons, too, with reasonable 
intelligence and fine advantages. If a man has no mind, 
he is not responsible, and, therefore, is excused ; if he has a 
little sense and realizes he has but little, we are in deep 
sympathy with him, whereas if he has but little sense and 
thinks he has much, we have no patience with him. So, 
friend, if you have but little sense', try tO' have enough to 
know you have but little. We are speaking of persons with 
good natural endowments and reasonably good opportuni- 
ties, and who, in spite of these, will squander time and ad- 
vantages and fit up the abode of their souls with that which 
is unworthy. 

One piece of this furniture so commonly selected is a 
large trunk of insincerity. This contains all kinds of false- 
hood, fickleness, flirtation, pretense, and deception, and is 
very difficult to manage. If you try to raise it, sit down 
on it, or move it, it is so " tricky " it will fly up, slip away 
from you, assume some other form, or dash at you and thrust 
you with its forked tongues of fire; it will blind you and 
throw you, you know not whither. It is dangerous; it is 
in no way trustworthy. You had better let it alonei Its 
owner is the most difficult person to deal with. You can- 
not lead him to a higher life or instill into him the possi- 
bilities and principles of the same. He is fickle — stands 
on a " shaky " foundation. As a boy, he has no " stick-to- 



How Are; You Buii<ding? 117 

it-iveness ; '' he is earnest and excited over every new un- 
dertaking, but soon becomes restless and tired, then changes 
to something else. As a man, he has no steadfastness, no 
firmness. 

Then, boys and girls, first put into your character edi- 
fice that bed-rock sincerity which will have a tend'ency to 
keep other things in proper place. In all the relations of 
life manifest the quality it indicates. At the foundation 
of pure character you will find a good heart, benevolent feel- 
ings, and a well-balanced mind. Be sure you are right, then 
be firm, steadfast, immovable. Thus you may live an open- 
faced life, with an unfettered conscience. You may look 
the world of mankind in the face, and proudly, happily, 
though not arrogantly, say that in this respect you are free. 

Y. 

Another vile article of furniture that many select and ap- 
propriate to themselves is that large cabinet of murder. 
Open its various divisions and see what it contains. Here 
is a large drawer filled with homicide — records of persons 
killed in various manners. Some have been murdered 
through malice ; some, through envy ; many have committed 
slow suicide by imprudence in eating and dress; others, 
through the use of opiates ; many havei swallowed the red- 
eyed demon, the viper drink, and close by their side lie 
the blackened characters who " put the bottle to their neigh- 
bors' lips." In another drawer we find character murder. 
Some of this has been accidental, but many of the unfortu- 



ii8 Hearthstone Echoes. 

nate victims have been stabbed with, the poisonous tcMigiie 
of slande^r and insinuation. 

Outnumbeiring all these are^ the multiplied instances of 
time killing. These are scattered profusely throughout the 
various apartments of the cabinet. Some of them are la- 
beled "■ Study ; " some, " Fun ; " and many, " Work ; " but 
the true label on each would be " Lost Opportunity," for 

" How often we are grieving and longing all in vain 
For a blessed opportunity that will never come again!" 

The most ludicrous piece of the unnecessary furniture is 
that comical little ticTde box. It is possessed by a girl in 
her early teens. The boys borrow and use it sometimes, 
but they soon willingly return it to the owner, who can play 
upon it with astonishing ease;. She giggles at this, that, 
and the other ; at her own wit or that of any one else. She 
giggles if anything either funny or melancholy is said; 
in either case it is giggle, giggle, giggle. Her first cousin 
has a luhining machine, and it is hard to tell which is less 
to be envied. One whines and the other giggles, ikben 
one giggles and the other whines. The sighs and half- 
crying tones of the whiner are calculated to distress you, 
I know ; for they make you think she is on the verge of de- 
spair, just ready to go to the poorhouse or fall into a sui- 
cide's grave. She whines if she is poor, for " she needs 
money, and needs it bad ; " she whines if she is rich, for 
"money is such a care; " she whines because it rains and 
then because the sun shines bright; she whines at the 
weather, at anything and everything, until we " feel so 



How Are You Buii<ding? 119 

sorry for her," when really we are the ones who need sym- 
paf;hy. She enjoys whining, but it is distressing to her hear- 
ers, and almost as disgusting as the noisy " he-he-he " of 
that little " tickle box." But hush ! " Speak of an angel " 
— here comes our little girl again, with her " tickle box." 
She giggles at her cousin's whining; she giggles when you 
tell her you are sick, and, in a giggling giggle, tells you 
she is " awfully sorry." She has a brother, known as the 
" grinning lad." He grins while she giggles, then she gig- 
gles while he grins and says : "Heh !" They grin and giggle 
all the time their whining cousin whines, then she keeps 
a timely accompaniment by whining while they giggle and 
grin. 

Look around at more of the useless furniture. You will 
spy some rough, soiled bundles scattered here and there, 
filled with extortion, covetousness, deceit, " and such like^" 
There lies one burst open. Its contents have swelled, like 
hot rice, until the cord has broken and the foul contents 
are exposed. That bundle is labeled " Exaggeration," 
and it is fondly cherished by many. When we see it, wo 
are reminded of the man who was arraigned before the 
church for exaggeration. His reply was : " Yes, breth- 
ren, I deeply regret to know this is my besetting sin; 
and I have shed barrels and barrels of tears over it." 
Again, we are reminded of the man who described a cer- 
tain house in London. He was anxious that people should 
know he had " been somewhere " and had seen some of the 
world's wonders. He was given to exaggeration, and a 



120 HEARTHSTONE ECHOES. 

friend had agreed to always remind him of it. He be- 
gan by saying : " The house is nine hundred and ninety- 
nine feet long, six hundred and eighty-four feet high, and 
[just here his friend touched him on the foot] — and three 
feet wide." When his hearers expressed utter astonishment 
at the odd proportions, he said: "It is a tape factory." 
Children, let us be careful, lest we waste too many words 
building " tape factories." 

!N^ear that ugly bundle is another bundle that likewise 
has swelled enormously and burst open. On it is written, 
" Uncontrolled Temper ; " and from it issues a dark-green, 
poisonous stream of unkind words and profanity. Turn 
quickly away from it, lest some of it touch and poison you ; 
then ponder in your heart why even one person in all the 
wide world will have that bundle in his home. Yet some 
of our very best neighbors, and — shall I say it ? — even some 
church members, actually seem passionately fond of that 
foul, uncouth bundle. A boy in Boston, quite small for his 
years, was once jeered by four large men, one of whom said : 
" You will never amount to much^ will never be strong 
enough to do much work; you are too small." The boy 
kindly, but quickly, replied : " Gentlemen,, I know tO' my 
sorrow that I am small and weak, but I can do one thing 
that none of you can do: I can keep from swearing." 

Look to your left ! There, on a high marble base, sits a 
large, attractive-looking cask of some kind. Really, it looks 
like a magnificent soda fountain. We are tempted to partake 
of its exhilarating contents. Let us go nearer and see what 



How Ark You Buii^ding. 121 

it is. Look ! It is boiling over. See how brilliant it is as 
it beads and sparkles in the sunlight! What a delicious, 
refreshing drink ! Even the cask containing it looks so cool 
and enticing, its sides moist, as the hot air from the outside 
is condensed bj its contact, forming great crystal drops 
which chase each other in little cool streamlets down its side. 
It is so inviting; it is a fountain free; it is freely flowing 
for you and for me. We have only to hold our cups and 
they shall be filled. Let us take a drink. Eie! The 
loathsome, disgusting stuff! It is nauseating; it is con- 
temptible. Its name is " Egotism." Do you know of any 
one — farmer, drummer, merchant, lawyer, or even preacher 
— ^who has brought the cask of egotism into the earthly home 
of his soul ? 

VI. 

Then tihere is that pernicious old grumble box. Why 
does any one select it? It is as old as time, is of no use 
whatever, is by no means ornamental, and is one of the 
very worst enemies to home happiness. The first thing 
we see on opening it is a smaller box containing the powder 
of sensitiveness. Did you ever see that low species of 
mushroom which swells up' like a toad and is sometimes 
rudely called " the devil's snuff box ? " Yes ; I know you 
have seen it, especially if you have ever lived in the country. 
Squeeze it gently when it is thoroughly ripe, and it will burst. 
If you are not careful, its contents, like other bad snuff, 
will fly right into your face and eyes, making a lasting im- 
pression. Thus mth the sensitive box: if you squeeze it 



122 He;arthstone Echoes. 

even gently, it will burst, and the powder will fly, like snuff, 
into your own eyes or like ashes thrown windward. It will 
cause intense pain that will often reach yoiur very heart. 
Be' careful. Do not touch it^ lest it fly to pieces, like a 
touch-mef-not, or shrink away, like the sensitive brier, or 
strike at you, like the quills of an an^-ry porcupine. If pos- 
sible, refrain from speaking while near it; for many times 
even the soft vibrations of the voicei of love will agitate its 
foul conteoitis, burst the soft box, and the powder will fly, 
like disturbed thistle seed, and will sometimes mingle with 
other combustibles of kindred natures; then all will ignite, 
and — ! — what a dreadful smoke they create. ! 

You will be surprised that this little " grumble box " can 
contain so much disagreeable rubbish. Doi not touch it; 
but, with lips closed and hands behind you, venture to lean 
over a moment; peep cautiously into the box and view its 
contents. Besides the small box of sensitiveness, you will 
see large quantities of faultrfinding, evil forebodings, bor- 
rowed trouble^ etc. 

Some of the disagreeable contents of the' box originated 
near the beginning of time, when a young man was repri- 
manded for killing his innocent brother. Since then man 
has seemed prone to deny being his " brother's keeper," has 
lived too much for self, has wanted tO' do exactly as he 
pleased, and has formed the Cainlike habit of pouting or 
grumbling if prohibited. This pernicious habit has been 
multiplied almost to infinity. Its name is " Legion," and 
in many instances it has become epidemic, contagious, he- 



How Are You BuiIwDing? 123 

reditary, and chronic. It accompanies some persons from 
the cradle to the grave. The infant will object if the light 
is put out; the little boy or little girl will sometimes com- 
plain when asked to get out of bed in time for breakfast, 
then throughout the day will likewise object when asked to 
do the little chores to relieve the poor, tired mO'ther. Many, 
many times will that loving, self-sacrificing, weary, broken- 
down, and almost invalid mother draw water, carry wood, 
or make fires rather than ask that stout, rosy-cheeked little 
lad or lassie to quit play or even leave the cozy fireside to 
relieve her. Why ? Because she would rather do the work 
twice, would rather exhaust her already tired muscles, than 
hear the unpleasant murmurings that so often follow her 
requests. Moreover, thosei co^mplaining words from the lips 
of a dear, darling child burn like embers in a mother's heart, 
and work ruin to her shattered nerves, thus doing far more 
injury than the work would do her good. If those sweet, 
rosy lips of childhood could only realize the many warm 
kisses of aifection they received from that doting mother 
before they were old enough to be loved by others ; if they 
could only know of the tender watch care, the intense' anx- 
iety, the sleepless nights, the scalding tears at different times 
during sickness of babyhood ; if they could only know how 
much pains have been taken in trying to train them to speak 
aright ; if those lips could only look intO' that heart of un- 
shed tears when they speak in harsh, ungrateful tones to 
that fond mother, doubtless when next tempted to speak 
thus, they would voluntarily lock themselves securely 



124 Hearthstone Echoes. 

against that unkind word and not let it escapa Oftentimes 
the dear children mean no harm hj these thoughtless com- 
plaints. They love their mother dearly, and do' not want 
to neglect her. Really, they expect to do the work shei re- 
quests of them, but it seems that they have to prefix it with 
some sour objectionsi. It is a pity to thus spoil so much of 
the sweetness of childhood, depriving both the children 
and the parents of a large portion of tlie bliss they would 
otherwise enjoy. Probably the child is just beginning to 
play some long, tedious game, and is cheery-faced, with eyea 
bright, full of glee, happy as a free birdie, when called to 
do something for mother. " Wait a minute till I fin- 
ish this game," is the impatient reply. After ten minute 
of weary waiting, the motheT calls again. She calls the 
third or fourth time. ISTow the child comes — slowly, reluc- 
tantly, with countenance fallen, long face, knit brow, pro- 
jecting lips, and with that doleful question : " What do you 
want ? " 

Many such children are only thoughtless and indifferent, 
not realizing that it is any more than a parent's duty tO' do 
all tbe chores and let them have a '' jolly good timei." One 
common form of this complaint is that other children have 
a better time than they. They fail to realize that a pair of 
little arms lovingly encircling her neck, a kiss of affection, 
and a word of gentle sweetness from those same precious 
lips, having exchanged a pout for a sunny smile, would cost 
but little, would work wonders in that tired mother's brain 
and be a balm to her discouraged heart. Love, though not 



How Are You BuiIvDing? 125 

blind to faults, is ready to forgive; and, as expressed br 
Phoebe Cary: " Sometimes one smile can glorify a day." 
Mother love regards children as little cherubs tO' help tO' pre- 
serve her, and their innocent smiles help her to bear np nnder 
the ills and misfortunes of life. Mother love will follow 
the child, regardless of his grumbling, through sickness or 
health, poverty or wealth ; through prosperity or adversity ; 
through the palace grand or the prison cell. With him it 
will ascend either the tall ladder of fame or the convict's 
scaffold. Ordinarily the child should never doubt for one 
moment the sincere love of a mother or father. 

When children yield to the unpleasant habit of murmur- 
ing, it will unconsciously grow on them- It is like stirring 
the cup with an icicle: it grows colder and colder all the 
while. At last they will begin to complain when reminded 
of their evil habits or of the necessity of taking care of their 
clothes or their health. As they approach manhood and 
womanhood, they begin to criticise the community, so- 
ciety, the country, and the church. If one obstacle is re- 
moved, they search closely and critically until they find an- 
other. So it is grumble, grumble, grumble. It is said 
that " every time a sheep bleats it loses a mouthful." Think 
of how much joy and good we lose by the pernicious habit 
of sulking or murmuring ! 

Strange to say, if you will look around carefully, 
you will find at least a small " grumble box " in almost 
every household. It has rather a homely name, I admit; 
but its name is decidedly too good for the box and its de- 



126 He;arthstone) Kchoes. 

testable contents. Little boy or little girl, examine tlie fur- 
niture in jour home and see if there is any " grumble bo'X." 
If so, look into it carefully and see if you can find your pic- 
ture. If it is there, take it out quickly, before your parents 
find it in such bad company. Father, mother, is your pic- 
ture in that box ? If I mistake not, I see the likenesses of 
many, if not most, of us — some, photographed on the' box 
lid; others, old-fashioned daguerreotypes, showing ancient 
date, but still true to life — chronic grumblers. Do' you not 
see the pictures ? Look again ! 

Yonder is another droll piece of furniture. Look over 
there in that corner ! What is it ? It resembles a " flying 
jenny." See how it spins round and round, fast enough to 
make your head swim ! " Five cents a ride! " 'No; read 
that sign again. It says : " Free ride ! " Let us try it. 
" Halt ! " But it will not halt. The manager says we 
must jump on while it is going, but we will not do that. 
There are plenty on board, without us, and we do not 
care for the " sour grapes," anyway. We see what it ia 
now ; its name is " Hobbyhorse," and we had better stay off, 
lest it throw us over the brink of destruction. The differ- 
ence between a real horse and a hobbyhorse is that the one 
can usually be stopped, while the other cannot, or usually 
is not. 

VII. 

You will likewise be astonished when you examine some 
of the other furniture selected by responsible men and 
women and brought into their character homes. Here sits 



How Ar:^ You Buii^ding? 127 

a large basket of slighted work^ labeled "A Lick and a 
Promise." It shows it has received the " lick," but " prom- 
ise " is always future, vou know. Most of our homes con- 
tain " lick-and-promise " baskets. 

Yonder is a little dark something on a high perch near 
the ceiling. It looks half starved; it is so shriveled or 
wrapped up in itself that we can scarcely see it, and the 
one who labeled it was too saving with his ink to write the 
name distinctly. It somewhat resembles a screech owl, and 
perhaps is one, for its eyes are its most conspicuous fea- 
ture. Let me see. Lend me your glasses, please* 0, yes ! 
ISTow I see. Its name, " Stinginess," is right between 
its big, glassy, glaring eyes. Hugged close under its 
left wing, near its heart, is the " miser," peeping out be- 
tween the feathers, looking for a penny; but he is too 
small for you to see. Do not strain your eyes looking for 
him. 

Laziness lounges over there in the opposite comer. He 
forgets that " sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor 
wears, while the used key is always bright" He has just 
been aroused by the breakfast bell. Do you not see him 
rubbing his eyes ? He is usually awake at mealtime ; but 
often, when his appetite has not been sharpened by labor, 
his breakfast is not very inviting. He thinks his wife ought 
to go and prepare a special dish to " tempt his ap'petite," 
whereas really the very best thing to do for it is to let. it 
rest a while, as his body is doing. It is not fair tO' keep 
his appetite working hard all the time his body rests. 



128 Hearthstone Kchoes. 

It has been tempted entirely too much, already — ^perhaps 
last night at supper. 

^ear Laziness is Theft, with large wings outstreitched, 
ready to dart at everything that is left unwatched. He will 
not only steal our purses, but will also steal our opportu- 
nities, our talents, and our souls. The ugly rogue takes 
special delight in preying upon the unguarded moments we 
carelessly let fly. His double cousin is the eavesdropper, who 
is too well known to need description. He spends much 
of his time around the telephone, catching gossip " on the 
wing." 

In the center of the room is a large, deep basin of stag- 
nant fluid — Chronic Melancholy. It never sees light, heiace 
is full of evil forebodings — ^borrowed trouble. In the cor- 
ner sit two chums, like twin sisters, with, their neveT^ 
tiring dashers forever going. They are " churning up " 
the faults of their neighbors, their school-teachers, their 
physicians, their county officials, their preachers, their 
church. If one becomes a little tired, it slightly checks its 
dasher a few moments; while the other kindly doubles its 
speed, so no time will be lost. These twin churns are, 
respectively, named " Tattling '' and " Backbiting," and 
without them the world would lose much — ^gossip. 

Yonder sits a queer-looking something. It looks like a 
large yellow cat when a little black dog comes into her pres- 
ence. You know how the cat " swells up her back," 
raises her bristles, growls, squalls, and then dashes at the 
dog as if wanting to scratch his eyes out; and she does 



How Are; You Buii<ding? 129 

scratch, too. This viciofas creature is Jealousy — a dis- 
agreeable and dangerous character. She has a twin s^ister 
named '' Envy," who' is even more to be dreaded, inasmuch 
as she is stronger and more determined in her low pursuits. 
She will reach down lower and resort to meaner things in 
order to carry out her evil purposes. The two so closely 
resemble that many of their intimate friends cannot dis- 
tinguish them. They are so very disagreeable it is as- 
tonishing that people will receive them into- their homes. 
"Jealousy is the green-eyed monster which do'th mock the 
meat it feeds on." In the langua2:e of another : "Jealousy 
is said to be the offspring of Love; yet unless the parent 
makes haste to strangle the child, the child will not rest 
until it has poisoned the parent" " Envy turns pale and 
sickens if even a friend prevails." " Bare envy withers 
at another's joy and hates that excellence it cannot reach." 
By cherishing either of these passions we are only blowing 
the fire that bums us and kindling it more and more. We 
are acknowledging our own inferiority as compared with 
those we envy, for " envy is a kind of praise." We env^ 
none except those we consider our superiors in the qualities 
envied, and thus make the distance between us and them 
even greater. The large dog scarcely ever barks at the 
train : the little one frequently does. 

Look under the bed of Disobedience to Parents, and you 
will see outstretched on the floor, face downward, tlie little 
Pouting Machine. It is not a very noisy machine; indeed, 
it is often perfectly quiet, except a low " snubbing," like 



130 Hearthstone Echoes. 

difficult breatJiing. SoniGitimes even this ceases, and it 
seems that the little machine has stopped for want of breath. 
Turn it over quickly, and jou will see its face drawn into 
a score of wrinkles. Be careful ! It is " tricky." The 
band sometimes flies off, and the spokes fly out of joint in- 
stantly. It is little, but it may scratch you violently or 
kick you like a deranged gun. It can be made a good little 
machine, however. It only needs " boxing." Little friend, 
be agreeable, or stay by yourself. If you are going to pout, 
crawl under the bed, out of sisrht; then do not scratch or 
kick. Do not be so sour that your very countenance and 
voice will curdle the hearts of those who look at you or have 
to hear you speak; do not poison the atmosphere of your 
friends and neighbors with your own unfortunate or dis~ 
agreeable environments. 

Yonder is the queerest thing of all. 'No one can describe 
it, for it changes too often. It makes you think you can- 
not possibly live without it; yet try to grasp it, and it is 
gone; pursue it, and it flies beyond your reach; attempt to 
imitate it, and it assumes some other form. You think it 
beautiful, " perfectly lovely." You select it as a model 
and hurriedly collect materials to make something that 
will resemble it; but by the time you have finished your 
work the model has changed color, shape, and pro'portions 
until your attempt looks out of date and ridiculous. About 
the nearest you can attain to success is to have some kind 
of " snap-shot " picture arrangement; and the first time the 
object seems still, draw your " trigger " instantly. There 



Kow Ark You BuiIvDing? 131 

will, eve'n then, be a kind of double impression, in the pic- 
ture; but it will look very natural, will serve to fill space 
in the "Bon Ton." They tell me this is a noted god- 
dess, and that those worshiping at her shrine by far outnum- 
ber those who bow submissively to King Immanuel. She ia 
a queer-looking creature^, to say the least, and dresses so 
comically. Sometimes she wears a collar so high and stiff 
that she almost has tO' stand on a table and tiptoe to see 
over it. It actually makes her turn her head as if there was 
a large carbuncle on the back of her neck. It. makes a red 
ring around her neck, and sometimes causes the muscles of 
the face to look distorted. It seems to be trying tO' usurp 
authority over chin and ears by commanding them to^ give 
up their positions and take a seat higher up' on the head. 
The next time you look at her, probably her dress will not 
have any neck at all. She is as changeable as the March 
wind, and commands us as she pleases. We " hear the 
sound theireof," and Avhere she leads us we will follow as 
closely as we reasonably can, even from the sublime to the 
ridiculous. Poor, dependent creatures we! The nama of 
this goddess is " Style," and a tyrannical sovereign is she. 
But, strange to say, temples have been; erected in honor 
of this ungodly goddess throughout the land; at least a 
small one is found in every home; and subjects are continu- 
ally worshiping at her shrine. 

Over there on the washstand is a little brown jug of spir- 
its — ^the " I-will-and-I-won't," " You-shall-and-you-shan,'t " 
spirits. These spirits are' frequently partaken of by differ- 



132 HSARTHSTONK ECHO^. 

ent members of the family, handed freely from one mem- 
ber to another, then back, again, and again. After their 
cups have been filled and emptied frequently, each partiei- 
pant ret^urns to the washstand, washes his hands, and, Pilatei- 
like, declares himself innocent — free from the contents of 
the ugly little jug, which bears the right label, " The Last 
Word," or " Retaliation." 

Have you noticed that large, inflated balloon ? It is the 
hypocrite, puffed with the gaseous ideas of self-importance 
— the '"' big-I-and-little-you " principle. He is a regular 
Pharisee, publicly thanking God that he is not like other 
men. On the contrary, other men may consistently thank 
the Lord that they are not like he is — a " whited sepulcher." 
" Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! " But 
we must not examine this balloon too closely, lest we punc- 
ture its beautiful covering and cause it to shrivel to noth- 
ingness. Another reason for staying aloof from the hypo- 
crite is that he stands on a loose plank — the trapdoor of 
falsehood — just barely strong enough to sustain his own 
light weight. If a single pound of investigation should be 
added, the trapdoor would give way, and down would go 
the balloon, hypocrite and all. We have looked at this per- 
nicious furniture long enough, anyway. We might come 
to the conclusion that all homes are filled with just such 
stuff as this, and nothing better, which would be a most glo- 
rious mistake. 

Let us now visit the schoolroom and see how things ap- 
pear there. 



How Are; You Buii^ding? 133 

VIII. 

From kindergarten to classic hall tHe student is building 
day by day. Toola are furnished, directions are given, 
overseers are appointed. Each student builder should have 
rooms in his structure for language, mathematics, sciences, 
and literature; also for resolution, hori-esty, uprightness, and 
truth. His motto should be, "Purpose and Determina- 
tion," and should hang at the door of his heart. He should 
provide himself with improved text-books, also with the best 
■books of reference; then, comparing wise men's views, 
should sift them carefully and cautiously, refuse the decay- 
ing theories and doubtful opinions, and keep only the infal- 
lible. 

The world is an open field, and the resources of mind are 
infinite. How strange that all students do not enjoy build- 
ing w^isely and securely ! They should see well to the fun- 
damental principles, which, sad to say, are to-day, in many 
places, being woefully neglected. How often we hear the 
most astonishing blunders in English made by those who 
stand before the world as standard bearers from our college 
halls, those whose life work is to- teach the young tongue 
how to talk ! These errors are most frequently in the very 
first principles of language — in the use of verbs and pro- 
nouns. The double subject, the singular "we," the ob- 
jective " I," and the nominative " me " are as common as 
slang among some elite college graduates. , It would certainly 
be wise for the teacher to watch more closely and try to cor- 
rect these blunders in the language of his students, and thus 



134 Hearthstonk Echoes. 

he would doubtless become more accurate himself. Cor- 
rect the little school goers to-day for saying " papa — he," 
" mamma — she," and in many instances they will cry out, 
" Pleonasm ! " and thus try to justify the most ridiculous 
blunders. 

The active, hopeful, joyful period of college days should 
be more sacredly used ; should have a sound, solid basis ; then 
good judgment should be exercised in selecting material for 
building. Brutish spo-rt and the demoniac of dangerous 
games, which coarsen the nature and blunt the finer sensi- 
bilities, should be strictly avoided. As some one has said : 
" Students do not need football, with bruises, fights, broken 
limbs, and death. There is but little common sense^ and no 
cultivation for their higher natures, in such selfish, brutish 
sports." The games and study should be cheerful, upbuild- 
ing, and calculated to instill self-respect, at the same time 
maintaining justice to others. ''' The college student who 
follows an ideality of manhood is the best representative 
of the coming man." He is one who has learned to think. 
Many visions of such a young man have grown into reality, 
to the utter astonishment of the average school goer. "A 
country without slavery, without duels, with educated 
women, with thought flying over the world as rays of light, 
with men talking with voice across the continent, was only 
a vision fifty years ago; it is a reality now." Another 
fifty years may witness changes as great as these, and even 
greater. Who will bring them about ? Who but those no- 
ble young men and young women who at home, at school, at 



How Are You Building? 135 

work, are learning to think high and wide and deep; who 
see in life something brighter and more Teal than the mists 
of mere classic honor^, which many obtain without meriting ? 
The wise student builder will not fear examinations and 
finals. The closing day will be to him, in many respects, 
the merriest day of all the glad school year, and will be 
hailed with unbounded joy — not alone because of vacation 
and freedom from study, but also because of freedom of 
conscience and knowledge of useful work in sight. Happy 
that student with visions of his own, that student who has 
learned to think ! Though he may be quiet now, the world 
will hear from him later on. 

" Think for thyself. One good idea 
But known to be thine own 
Is better than a thousand gleaned 
From fields by others sown." 

IX. 

As in the mental and moral, so in the spiritual, character, 
each individual is largely responsible for his own edifice. 
Each spiritual heart is a temple wherein God may dwell. 
Each person is a workman, with tools provided, and is daily 
building. He should select the firm foundation, the bed rock 
of God's eternal truth, with Christ as the chief comer stone ; 
then he should examine carefully each piece of material he 
places thereon, such as faith, virtue, temperance, patience, 
godliness, brotherly kindness, and charity. 

When Mr. J. E. "Robertson arranged to build the church 
at Crockett Mills, Tenn. — that splendid edifice which is 



136 Hearthstone; Echoes. 

a true specimen of the godij works of Mr. Robertson and his 
family — he spoke to the contractor thus : " Now, sir, you 
may place in these walls just as many soft, inferior bricks 
and bats as you please; but just as sure as even one goes in, 
and I find it out, I will not pay you a cent." Suffice it to 
say the work was not slighted. 

Each Christian is building a spiritual temple. He should 
beware of soft bricks, crumbly stones, unseasoned timbers ; 
and he should use plenty of cement, screws, and nails, that 
his structure be strong and steady. Reader, have you any 
soft bricks in your edifice that may crumble and fall from 
their places when touched by the finger of investigation, 
oppression, temptation, or persecution ? In our family res- 
idence we have one peculiar chimney, a few of whose lower 
bricks evidently contain saltpeter, or something similar, ab- 
sorbed from the earth. These have become soft and crum> 
bly, and roaches and crickets are frequently found nib- 
bling at them. Occasionally it becomes necessary to re- 
move some of the worst bricks and fill their places with 
others. Be assured, kind reader, that if your spiritual char- 
acter is composed of soft, half-burned, or porous bricks, 
containing too much of the weaker minerals or alkalis ab- 
sorbed from the earth, the crickets and roaches of tempta- 
tion, persecution, and reproach will continually nibble at 
you, until, particle at a time., you fall, and great will be the 
fall. Such material scarcely ever falls a whole brick at a 
time, but crumbles away, little by little, always giving an 
appearance of dilapidation. Sometimes its infection seems 



How Are You Building? 137 

to he spreading and affecting the adjoining bricks, in which, 
case it is gently, but necessarily, removed and other mate- 
rial substituted. 

Too many whose names are enrolled as spiritual builders 
seem to regard their edifice complete as soon as the founda- 
tion is laid. Imagine a man living in a house ( ? ) with 
only a floor — no walls, no roof, no furniture ! When the 
July sun, with its yellow beams, shall scorch his cheeks and 
almost boil the blood in his veins; when the floods shall 
come and the cold rain shall fall in torrents on him ; again, 
when December shall hiss with its northern breath; when 
great ice stones shall pelt him from the lowering clouds; 
when a thick, snowy mantle shall wrap him close, as in a 
Avinding sheet, then — 0, then — will he realize his error and 
will try to complete his house ; but too late, too late ! 

'No spiritual Avork avails anything unless built on the 
foundation Eock. Again, this Eock alone is not sufficient 
Imagine a man going to judgment with a foundation and no 
building or with a building having no foundation ! 

If our destiny is already eternally fixed, we can do noth- 
ing; therefore we should not be held responsible. If all 
will be saved regardless of action, why try to do anything be- 
yond fulfilling moral requirements ? Again, why admonish 
us to stand firm, " be steadfast, immovable," to be careful 
lest we fall ? But the Lord says : " Hear and do." He 
also says : "xill that are in the graves shall . . . come 
forth: they that have done good, unto the resurrection of 
life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection 



138 Hsarthstone; Echoes. 

of damnation." He also says: "Depart," "Vengeance," 
etc., because they have done nothing; " Be ye doers of the 
word, and not hearers only, deceiving yonr own selves." 

Let lis all see that we have selected the proper foiunda* 
tion — Christ; let us wisely build thereon according to di- 
vine directions. Then, when our spiritual edifice is com- 
pleted, we can step from its highest pinnacle — home. 

X. 

Boys, girls, you are erecting character structures day by 
day. As the quiet moments build the years, so your every- 
day actions build your character. You are building intel- 
lectually, morally, spiritually — building for eternity. 

Yours may be a castle grand 
Or a wreck upon the sand. 
" Then build it clean and high and broad; 
Build it for the eye of God." 

" When a mason builds a Avail, tlie course of bricks he 
laid yesterday is the foundation on which he is laying an- 
other course to-day." Likewise, what you build on your 
character walls to-day serves as the basis on which tO' place 
tor-morrow's work. God has kindly given each of you a 
nice little cottage of your own, far more valuable than a 
brick or stone palace. It is a convenient house, with room? 
suited to all the virtues and accomplishments necessary to 
make you happy and useful. It has rooms especially 
adapted to virtue, justice, and truth ; for these little " dei- 
ties of life " will need to hold many private counsels in 



How Ark You Buii^ding? 139 

solving the problems of your conduct-. They should have 
large, free rooms in the heart of every boy and girl, and it 
is not a safe young man or young woman who will bar or 
lock the heart's door against them. I said you were build- 
ing character. You are either building or tearing dovm. 
Which are you doing ? Eeflect a moment. Within the last 
year or two have you formed any habit that is useless and 
even in the slightest degree demoralizing? If so, right 
now have the manly heroism to lay it aside. You are doubt- 
less to some extent its master now ; but if you do not crush 
it, it will be your master by and by. Is your character bet- 
ter or worse than it was one year ago ? Are you trying hard 
to improve it or carelessly permitting it to go down ? Are 
you trying to become a man or a nothing ? If you strive 
earnestly for nobility of character, you will not fail of your 
reward. The good of earth will either love or detest the 
habits you are forming. Which shall it be? With tem- 
poral blessings and with God on your side, you are his mil- 
lionaires. Then take advantage of this, and be something. 
Do not let your character house be an empty shell. You 
can make it either a prison from whose gloom you cannot 
escape or a vast palace filled with all that can delight. If 
it is now a desirable palace, you can cause it to lose some of 
its bright coloring and gilding every day until naught will 
remain but faded remnants of its pristine beauty. On the 
other hand, if your life thus far has been only a kind of 
prison — an abode of gloom — ^you are privileged to break 
down the bars and open the prison doors by obedience to 



140 Hearthstone Echoes. 

God's spirit of truth, and grace, which, will tkeoi set your 
own fettered spirit free. Then joy will naturally beam 
from your countenance like jets of light. You will be 
liappy. How sweet the consolation arising from tbe mem- 
ory of a well-spent life ! As Socrates says : " Be tlie very 
man you wisli to appear." " Make yourself necessary to 
somebody/' says Emerson. Leave off the " superfluity of 
naughtiness " and clierish all that will beautify and enrich 
your soul. Use your will, yet guard your will ; for it is the 
citadel of your character. The " I will " and the " I 
won't " will continue to chase each other all along the ave- 
nues of your existence until you take a positive stand for 
the right in each virtue. According to your will power will 
your character be; according tO' your character will your 
destiny be. 

Then hunt out the sources of power and weakness in your 
own character. The very " thorn in the flesh " may be 
made the source of your greatest power for good. Set a 
strong watch at every character gate of your heart. " Do 
not let Satan make you believe that you are good enough; 
this is one of his strongest chains." Do not say you axe 
invulnerable to temptation. If you feel yourself too meek 
to yield, think of Moses; if too holy, consider David; if 
too patient, think of Job; if too wise, think of Solomon; 
if too strong, look at Samson. You may have in your char- 
acter some weak point you have never discovered — one that 
has never been tested — and in an hour when you ar© least 
expecting " Delilah " may cry out, " The Philistines be 



How Ar]5 You Buii^ding? 141 

upon thee, Samson ! " and you may be suddenly shorn of 
your strength. 

Thoughts, purposes, plans, words, and actions are the 
principal stones or bricks used in building character, hence 
in determining destiny. As you arrange your charac- 
ter structure, it constantly discloses your inward self. 
Your faults and failings, as well as your noble deeds, are 
laid bare to^ the scrutinizing eye of the outer world, and your 
heart dwindles when it comes in contact with small things 
and narrow interests. The greatest man is he who chooses 
and follows the right, who wins love by his own wooing. 
The pleasure of doing good is the only one that never wears 
out. xibout all the benefit we derive from the temporal 
life (besides its common blessings) is the result of being 
good and doing good, together with that grand social fea- 
ture — all those precious fascinations connected with home 
and radiating therefrom until they embrace all humanity. 
This nobility of purpose, carried into effect and cheered by 
the blessed hope of a bright forever, certainly makes life 
worth living. 

Let not your life be stained by crime. ISTever try to 
acquire fame and popularity by "puffs" either begged 
or paid for; never let any one say he has "dragged 
you up ; " and be still more careful never to let any one 
drag you down. The door of success is labeled " Push." 
Then, if need be, push your way through thorns and bram- 
bles ; hoe your own row ; fight your own battles ; shoot the 
" bear " yourself ; chop, blaze, or carve your own way up 



142 Hearthstone Echoes. 

the hill of success. As regards this life, let a spotless char- 
acter be jour aim, my boy, my girl. Merit it, and it. shall 
be yours. A good name — think of its value ! Do not wear 
it without meriting it. Wear it consistently; secure it by 
worthy means. Build upon your own record, not that of 
your great-grandfather. If false accusation be heaped upon 
you, like the amiable Joseph, calmly live it down. Let it 
alone, and it will die of starvation. Place for yourself a 
high standard, and strive to^ attain thereunto. If you can- 
not reach it, reach just as high as you can ; then try tO' reach 
still higher. The little boy's arrow went higher by the at- 
tempt to hit the sun than if he had been shooting at a 
toad. Wealth and genius may command admiration; only 
true character secures respect. ISTeither can you buy your 
lot already improved ; with divine aid, you yourself must 
build. If you can possess naught but a sound character, 
stand firm on it, and you will be better off than a crowned 
king who is impure. 

God has blessed you with rich mental endowments' — ■ 
power of discerning between the upbuilding and the degrad- 
ing ; he has then left you to fit up and adorn the palace of 
your soul as you please out of his unwasting fullness. At 
the same time he has given you instructions, advising vou 
and pleading with you to arrange it tO' your own honor and 
his glory. If you are wise, you will select the very best 
furniture. At first glance it may appear too costly, but 
you will at last find it to be far cheaper, handsomer, 
more durable. It is a wise and kind provision of proivi- 



How Are; You BuiIvDing? 143 

dence that the purest traits of character are far le^s costly 
and less expensive after being purchased than those perni- 
cious traits that destroy usefulness and produce only mis- 
ery and woe. The furniturei that God would have you se- 
lect will need no cleansing, no polishing, no apologies. Bet- 
ter still, it will never wear out, rust out, break down, or go 
out of date. Something " later " may eclipse it for a while, 
but will prove to be a mere " fad," while the very best is 
the " old reliable." 

You have been patiently looking with me; at some of the 
rubbish selected by persons who have knowledge without 
discretion. Tou have seen the evil of selecting such fur- 
niture as insincerity, murder, theft, drunkenness, self-con- 
ceit, stinginess, tattling, egotism, hypocrisy, sensitiveness, 
grumbling, procrastination, indolence;, melancholy, jeal- 
ousy, envy, retaliation, etc. If you fill your house with 
these, there will be no room for articles of a better quality. 
If you even mix in the bad with the good, the latter will 
show to poor advantag-e, and will doubtless be injured by 
the bad. But your mind's eye is tired ; we must give it a 
pleasant change. 

Look just outside your door, and you will see the ma- 
terial you need. It is all labeled. Look at the labels: 
" Consistency," " Benevolence," " Sympathy," " Kind- 
ness," "Self-control," "Industry," "Love," "Patience," 
" Economy," " Prudence," " Home Piety," " Thoughtful- 
ness," " Congeniality," and " Tact " (without tact, talent 
is reduced to less than half value). 



144 Hearthstonb Echoks. 

Be wise ! Bring all tliese and similar articles into yonr 
quaint little cottage home, and you will have no desire for 
the coarser furniture. Frame the Golden Rule and hang 
it at the entrance; select Order as your private secretary, 
Good Management as your treasurer, Discretion as your 
chief counselor, and let Love be the reigning queen. Then 
be well insured in the reliable company of Heaven; keep 
your dues thoroughly paid up by unreserved obedience to 
the great spiritual guidebook, the word of God; continue 
to offer the incense of Prayer and Thanksgiving on the 
golden altar of Gratitude, and your house will indeed be a 
home. 

" On "^hat are you building, my brother ? " 



"ELECTRIC TIP;" OR, A COMICAL NAMESAKE. 

Did you ever think of how many sorry namesakes some 
great men have ? I would not name a child for a man of 
world-wide or national renown, lest he prove toi be a bur- 
lesque and bring reproach upon the honored name; There 
is many a Ben. Tranklin who mil never subjugate the light- 
ning; many a Christopher Columbus who will never dis- 
cover a continent ; many a George Washington who may cut 
down the cherry tree, but mil never be " first in war, first 
in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen." 

Prom the north to the south and from where tlie morn- 
ing sun seems to toss his first kiss at the awakening earth 
to where he looks back at her with good-night glances, elec- 



"KivECTRic Tip;" or, a Comicai, Namesakk. 145 

tricity plays with the elements as a child plays with familiar 
toys. It shoots its dazzling arrows athwart the skies, 
cleaving the dismal clouds, consuming atmospheric poisons, 
cleansing the blue vault of its impurities. It is the most 
faithful servant of the firmament; yet it has stooped to 
earth, fluttered at the feet of man, and become his errand 
boy, carrying his messages and lighting his way. 

Like great men, electricity has many sorry namesakes, 
many ludicrous burlesques. One visited our home a few 
years since wearing the name " Electric Soles," or, as the 
agent expressed it, " Electricity Soles." These were sup- 
posed to be highly charged with electricity, and, worn in- 
side of shoes, were to cause such perfect circulation of blood 
as to render cold feet a trouble of the past and keep the hu- 
man frame proof against all ills ; hence they would dispense 
with " doctors' bills " and patent medicines, and, through per- 
fect health, would render life sublime. Although suspecting 
fraud, my sympathy for the agent — a poor, feeble woman — 
caused me to buy two pairs of soles; but the foot-warming, 
health-producing electricity failed to acco'mpany them. I 
did not censure the innocent woman; I censured the firm 
whose money-making scheme had induced her to become an 
agent for propagating fraud. 

Electricity has another pretty little namesake that has 
more recently visited our town, calling himself " Electric 
Tip." He is a cute little fellow^ bright and handsome, 
and perches himself upon an ordinary lamp wick to spread 
the flames and produce the equal of an electric light. He 



146 Hearthstone Echoes. 

is to serve for two jears ; the wick is to need trimming oinly 
every few weeks, or months ; the lamp chimney is never to 
become smoked ; in fact, this little Pharisee is tO' doi almost 
everything except to furnish light without oil. Many of us 
blindly jumped at the fraud, and eagerly grasped it as a 
first-class labor-saving arrangement (to which we women do 
not seriously object). We very soon discovered the secret: 
In order to obtain this wonderful result (except the ligM), 
set the lamp away in a clean place for safe-keeping; then 
the " tip "' mil last, the wick will not need trimming, and 
the chimney will not become smoked. Follow these direc- 
tions carefully, and success is yours, guaranteed. 

Herein we are forcibly reminded of the various packages 
of needles, lead pencils, patent " solder," furniture glue, 
furniture polish, door catches, sash locks, and many otlier 
impositions which have deceived our unsuspecting citizens 
and carried from our town the patronage sO' justly due our 
honorable home merchants. Like a preacher from a dis- 
tance, foreign " goods " often seem to " take best with the 
people." Home industries and home talent should be cul- 
tivated and encouraged; then we would not have to pur- 
chase all our conveniences, our music, our literary gems, 
from the passing public and run the risk of their proving to 
be merely " electric tips." 

Another rival of " Electric Tip " has been around. He 
was a poor, lame, decrepit man, carrying a supply of " in« 
sect exterminator " (fifty cents per ounce), positively guar- 
anteed to keep out all insects by three or four drops be- 



" Electric Tip; " or, a Comical Namesake. 147 

ing placed on cotton and suspended in the room. He offered 
five hundred dollars' reward for a fly found in a room thus 
equipped. The poor old cripple looked too innocent to be 
suspected of fraud ; so we purchased the fluid, and he " went 
on his way rejoicing." The oil or varnish was so highly 
flavored that the flies considered it a luxury — a dainty des- 
sert for such tasty epicures ( ? ). The elated agent failed to 
leave us the additional directions: " Be sure your door and 
window screens are insect proof, then keep them securely 
closed." 

Why do not such characters offer something worth buy- 
ing, or frankly, yet humbly, acknowledge that they are 
" beggars," ask for a little money, and not add crime to 
crime by giving " nothing for something ? " Simon was 
not the first man who used sorcery and " bewitched the peo- 
ple; " neither was he the last Agents have been canvass- 
ing the country with their impositions, deceptions, hypoc- 
risy, falsehood, ever since their father carried the first pack- 
age thereof to the quiet Eden home. They are still proudly 
" walking in his footsteps," having in view the same ob- 
ject — gain. But these crafty pedestrians serve admirably 
to teach us patience and to make us watchful. We should 
ever be on our guard, for we '' know not the day nor the 
hour " when some fraud seller shall come, and we may for- 
get to say : " ;N"o." This cunningly devised system of beg- 
gary so closely resembles genuine honesty that it is liable 
to mislead us and cause us to neglect worthy agents, even 
poor outcasts who are real objects of charity. 



148 HSARTHSTONS ECHO^, 

The fraud agent does not always carry his package from 
house to house, neither does he always stand behind a gilded 
screen; but he oftentimes deals out his sordid goods in a 
bottle of patent medicine, in a yard of calico, in a pair of 
shoes, in a barrel of sugar, in a pound of butter. He comes 
nearer and places it in the father's hand, on the mother's 
tongue, in the child's disposition, in the young lady's parlor. 
He enters our courthouses, our schools, our churches. 
Sometimes we permit him to blindfold us; then, like the 
hungry birdie, with open mouth we accept all he says. 
The mother bird will not deceive, but we may be deceived 
by counterfeits — ^by various kinds of frauds. Satan is often 
transformed into " an angel of light." Need we expect bet- 
ter things of his stewards ? 

Thousands accept the fraudulent samples in Christianity, 
thinking they, like the " electric tips," will save time and 
labor ; others grasp them, hoping they will wajd off " in- 
sects " of persecution. We need not be. deceived concern- 
ing heavenlv things, though vile theories be daily placed 
on our doorstep or poured into our ears, for we have the 
great Test Book with which to compare the " goods." 

The chief Agent is coming by and by, and he will give 
this matter a thorough test, assigning to each his just re~ 
ward. Let us watch, therefore, lest we be numbered with 
those who practice fraud. 



How to act so as not to be crowded: Keep in the very 
best society, and always speak the truth. 



Smai.1, Subjects. 149 

SMALL SUBJECTS. 

Some persons have wondered and asked "why I so fre- 
quently write on such small, unpretentious subjects. I will 
give my apology for doing so. When you look for the melon 
on a pomegranate vine, are you disappointed when you fail 
to find a pumpkin ? Or do you expect to find a cocoanut 
on a May-apple bush or a fifty-pound watermelon on a cu- 
cumber vine ? On the other hand, if you should see a flour- 
ishing gourd vine spreading its broad leaves and long arms 
over fence and bushes, and, going to it for a large gourd, 
should find growing thereon only a small, green, sour goose- 
berry or a green persimmon, how would you feel ? Well, 
if I should always select a grand, fruitful, flowery subject, 
you might expect to find as its outgrowth a much larger 
thought than I am able to present. You might expect, a 
large pumpkin or watermelon and find only a small, greem., 
erooked-necked cymling. Therefore I often select small 
themes, so my reader will not expect too much — so he may 
at least recover from the disappointment. 



THE "THUMB PAPER.^ 

Do you remember ever having a " thumb paper," and how 
it looked ? If not, the morning of your existence bears 
recent date. 

Beautiful cards, such as children now grow tired of, were 
unknown to the little lads and lassies twoscore years a^o. 
We then took a piece of newspaper or an old letter ; folded 



150 Hearthstone Echoes. 

it in the form of a " love box/' or in some other unique 
shape ; and used it as a thumb paper. We were usually for- 
tunate if we could secure a half sheet of blank writing pa- 
per to use in this way, for this was a rarity. Such eixtrav- 
agance was not often indulged in. We felt wonderfully 
blessed, were elated and excited, if we chanced to come in 
I)ossession of a pretty button card, especially one checked off 
with narrow pink stripes. Smooth, highly glazed, perfectly 
white, with its delicate pencilings of pink dividing it into 
exact half -inch squares — 0, how beautiful! How we 
prized it, and how it made us the source of envy for our 
little schoolmates ! But we did not object to their envy, 
just so they did not obtain our thumb paper. Sometimes 
it was actually necessary to hide the book at recess to keep 
the card from mysteriously disappearing. 

A loving mother once gave her two little children a large 
button card — exactly the kind I have described. She was 
ready, scissors in hand, to divide it equally. " Please, sis- 
ter, let me have the whale card," said the brother, whose 
older mind had already formulated a plan for utilizing the 
rare beauty. " ISTo, no ! " cried little Mary. " Half of it 
is mine — ^mamma says it is — and I'm going to have it ! " 
" Please do let me have it all," tenderly, but earnestly, en- 
treated the anxious little man. " I want it for a special 
purpose, and it will be too small if divided." " I won't 
do it ! I won't do it ! " the little sister exclaimed. " But 
I'll pay you for your half," said her brother. " You shan't 
have it! I want it for a thumb paper to go in my new 



Ths "Thumb Papkr." 151 

speller. Mamma said she would cut it in two, and she will." 
King" Solomon, of old, convinced the erring woman with- 
out dividing- the child that was a " bone of contention," but 
this indulgent, impartial mother failed to reconcile the baby 
girl so easily; so she humored the childish whims, and of 
the one beautiful card she made two pieces. With a look 
of disappointment, the good boy accepted his portion and 
turned away defeated. Little Mary jubilantly scampered 
away to hunt her " new speller," mischievously tossing her 
curls as she looked back over her shoulder, and cunning'ly 
said : " I told you I'd have it ! " 

For the length of an average lifetime the grass has been 
growing over the grave of that noble boy. Little Mary is 
passing life's meridian now. Time hasi shaken the curl 
from her tresses, is blotting the luster from her eyes, and is 
fading the roses from her cheeks ; the old, reliable artist is 
gradually, but surely, penciling her dark hair with white. 
But often — O, so often! — does her mind flit back to the 
scenes of her childhood ; and while recalling the many happy 
incidents, a dark spot arises before her mind's eye, and on 
it she sees a pair of sharp scissors dividing that beautiful 
card. ]!^ot many dark spots haunt her childhood musings, 
but this one often does ; and she now feels that if it were 
possible to unlock the treasuries of the past and restore that 
brother to life, her first words to him, after the joyous greet- 
ing, would be : " Pardon my childish greed, my brother, 
dear. Here, take the whole card ! I will gladly, lovingly 
give you my part ; it is yours, all yours." 



152 hearthstone; Echoes. 

This little incident really occurred. Do yoii say it is 
too simple to relate? Though, it seems of minor impor- 
tance, no one but Mary knows how many unpleasant reflec- 
tions it has given her. How gladly, thankfully would she 
blot that little greedy act from her memory, if she could ! 
But perhaps it has been thus indelibly stamped there for 
you to see, little reader — ^yes, you. If you will profit by it, 
she will be glad she permitted me to tell you. She hesitated 
a good while before granting me this privilege; but Mary 
is a warm friend of minei, and consented after I told her 
I thought it might do good. Do you ever have such refleo 
tions ? 'No, not now ; but you will have in later years, I 
fear. • Now is the time to be good, loving, and true to your 
dear ones and to all. Be careful that you do not treasure up 
remorse or sad reflections for future years. Better sacri- 
fice a little of your self-will to gratify others, even though 
you see no reason for doing so, than show too much deter- 
mination to have your own way in every little thing. It 
is in the little deeds that we see the niceties that distingnish 
Hfe. 

But I have wandered from my themes. At that early day 
we did not speak of a bookmark ; we said " thumb paper," 
and that is exactly what it was — a literal rest for the thumb, 
to prevent soiling and wearing out of the book. It was a 
very essential part of each student's personal property, for 
without it the " blue-backed speller " suffered sadly ; and a 
book was expected to last the pupil until his education was 
complete — was often handed down, like outgrown clothing. 



The "Thumb Paper." 153 

from one child to another. I once had a pupil who had no 
book except that which was left as a heritage from his 
grandf alJier ; and that pupil was not a member of a ve^ry 
poor family, either. 

The rate of each child's advancement could be calculated 
by the thumb marks on his book; the duller the pupil, the 
deeper and more worn were the marks on thei first pages. 
Three places were especially damaged — first, at the alpha- 
bet, where the child of average talent spent days, weeks, 
and sometimes months (according to the regularity of his 
attendance and the progressive ideas of the teacher), before 
he could say all the letters " down," then " up ; " secondly, 
at the " a-b, abs ; " thirdly, at that prince of pages always 
to be remembered by the old " blue-back " veterans as 
" baker.'' That noted page stood as a great signal, or sign- 
board — as a tall post in the boundless field of literature to 
which the child of high aspirations eagerly pointed, and 
which he longed to reach, feeling that when he should reach 
that page and learn to spell " by heart " all the words there- 
on, he would have completed half his " collegiate course.'' 
A few other difficult pages showed footprints (thumb prints) 
of the diligent student, as " horseback," " cessation," " pub- 
lication," and that far-famed page of prodigious words — 
" immateriality," " unintelligibility," and " incomprehen- 
sibility." Suffice it to say that the latter half of the 
book scarcely ever suffered much persecution, unless it 
was at the pictures near the back, where old Tray sadly 
learned the folly of evil associations and where the little 



154 Hbarthston:^ Echoes. 

boy found it was not safe to invade his neighbor's apple 
orchard. 

Children, as we leave the old thumb-paper dispensation, 
we see portrayed at least two or three distinct lessons appli- 
cable to the present day. One is progression. The worn 
and greasy thumb paper has given place to myriads of beau- 
tiful cards and calendars of the most artistic designs. The 
champion of the log schoolhouse, Webster's " blucf-backed 
speller," has been superseded by vast libraries of text-boo'ks 
less tedious and far more attractive; and the little bare- 
footed tots of that day, who still live, now see their places 
filled by others no more intelligent, but better dressed and 
with better advantages. The log schoolhouse, with its 
puncheon floor, its many narrow windows in roof and walls, 
its rustic seats, and its mammoth fireplace, has served its 
purpose well, and has long since been succeeded by the 
magnificent college, the pride of the glorious, but newly- 
buried, nineteenth century. The length of time then usu- 
ally devoted to the alphabet will now teach a child to read, 
write, and spell, besides giving him a right good idea of 
numbers and of the elements of the mother tongue, as well 
as some knowledge of the natural sciences. 

On the other hand, do we show a full appreciation of these 
superior advantages ? Do we strive as hard for thorough- 
ness as we should ? Do we not often disregard our wonder- 
ful opportunities and drift into habits of extravagance — • 
not only as to property, but also wasting much precious 
time ? If in the thumb-paper age- — the age of limited ad- 



Woman's Infx,uence. 155 

vantages — a boy or girl could become even a fine speller, 
reader, and mathematician, how much more is expected of 
the youth to-day ! This is certainly the age of golden op- 
portunities, if we will only embrace them. 



WOMAN'S INFLUENCE. 

Who will deny that woman has influence? Will youf 
Will you ? My neighbor, brother, friend, will youf 

To me it seems hardly appropriate to assign this sub- 
ject to a woman. Her trivial part in life's great play could 
be better estimated by man, her royal superior, her sover- 
eign companion. / think to Mm should have been assigned 
this wondrous task. However, I verily believe all will read- 
ily admit woman has influence. Will you ? Thank you ! 
Then my task will not be diflScult, since I will have no 
argument to produca 

As in the dawn of time, even so in the golden now, to 
her " better self " woman often says, " Eat," and he " eat- 
eth;" "Sleep," and he "sleepeth;" "Do this," and he 
" doeth it ; " " Go," and he — is gone. 

Adam could calmly slumber while the heavenly Surgeon 
extracted from near his heart that marvelous rib; but too 
weak was he to withstand his beloved when her nimble fin- 
gers presented the forbidden fruit. Samson could conquer 
ferocious beasts, carry off city gates, and pull down theater 
walls ; but his strength vanished before the decoy of shrewd 
Delilah. Elijah hesitated not to foretell to the desperate 



156 H:eARTHSTONE ECHO:eS. 

Ahab the forty-two months' drotught, then on Moimt Oar- 
mel stood undaunted before eight hundred and fifty wicked 
prophets, a Heaven-sanctioned witness of thedr sudden eix- 
termination ; but when the lovely ( ? ), the amiable ( ? ), 
the sweet-spirited (?) Queen Jezebel gently raised her 
dainty fist against him, he "fled for his life." In every age 
Adam has had his Eve; Samson, his Delilah; Ahab, his 
Jezebel ; David, his Bathsheba ; Solomon, his " daughter of 
Pharaoh ; " and Herod, his Herodias — man, the acknowl- 
edged head; woman, the many- jointed neck that turns the 
head. 

You will never deny woman's evil influence (even before 
she becomes the far-famed "mother-in-law"). You al- 
ready know too well her many faults — her extravagance^, pet- 
tishness, impatience, vanity; her powers of exaggeration 
(causing you to believe the intruder is a lion or rhinoceros,, 
when it is only a mouse) ; but has it ever been intimated 
to you that woman has a tongue ; that she is chief est among 
fault-finders ; that her favorite of all pursuits is tattling — 
foremost in carrying news, especially bad news, and noted 
for having the " last word " (part of " woman's rights," you 
know) ? If not, probably I can give you some valuable 
information. 

" Nature, seeming partial in her ends, 
Made man the strongest; 
But then, in order to amends, 
, Made woman^s tongue the longest." 



Woman's Infi,ue;nce;. 157 

Swift says: 

She sits tormenting ev'ry guest. 
Nor gives her tongue a moment's rest, 
In phrases battered, stale, and trite, 
Which modern ladies call ' polite.' " 

Tongue ! not always even " tied in the middle," but some- 
times set on a pivot, so it may turn, in every direction — 
the outburst of a violent temper. Tongue! cunningly 
barred and hedged in by twO) rows of ivory fencing and 
closed in by nature's ingenious tollgate, a pair of broad 
lips ; then placed far from the heart, that it may not utter 
all the heart conceives; yet an "unruly evil." Tongue! 
that often runs almost for ages without a guide — ^witbout 
even being wound up. 

" Where is the man who has the power and skill 
To stem the torrent of a woman's will? 
For if she will, she will, you may depend on 't; 
And if she won't, she won't; so that's an end on 't." 

It has been said that 

"Woman never submits. 
But will have her way or will have her fits." 

After long consideration and much meditation upon the 
great reputation he possessed in the nation, King Solomon 
decided that it was more pleasant to keep " bach." on the 
house top than dwell in a mansion with a crabbed, conten- 
tious woman; and he certainly knew what he was talking 
about. He spoke that which he did know and testified to 
that which he had seen. Man can guide the largest steamer 
on the Pacific Ocean, but not woman's tongue; he can con- 



158 Hearthston:^ Echoes. 

trol the most vicio'iis animals in the meoiageriei, but wom- 
an's tongue he can neither tame nor cage^ — never; no, never. 
!N"ow, mj beloved sisters — my weiak, morose, crabbedj 
vain, eixtravagant, fault-finding, tattling sistersi — ^will our 
superiors deny our influence ? Acquainted, as they are, 
with all our weaknesses, is it not strange that without us 
but few men seem content ? 

"The world was sad; the garden was a wild; 
And man, the hermit, sighed — ^till woman smiled." 

He has kept her by his side (from force of habit, of course), 
until without her he is like a bird with a broken wing — 
onersided; like a species of bird that a Persian poet tells 
us of, each having only one wing, but by the cooperation 
of a pair of birds the flight is made with easa 

Gentlemen, pardon me, please. I dislike to appear pre- 
sumptuous, for modesty sliould adorn our humble class; 
but, honestly, I do not believe woman's influence is all evil. 
I cannot think the neck always turns its head in the wrong 
direction ; but I readily admit woman is sometimes a man's 
crown, sometimes a millstone dragging him down. For 
four thousand years she was your slave. The reign of 
Christ has made her free. Thanks to Christianity for her 
promotion ! 

Woman does not make very great pretensions. In noted 
achievements she is scarcely kno'wn. As to intellect;, she 
generally succumbs as man's inferior ; in physical strength, 
weak. The Bible uses but little space eulogizing woman. 
The blunted pencil of patriotic fame dimly scribbles the 



Woman's Infi,uknce;. 159 

name "Joan of Arc ; " the business world reluctantly ac- 
knowledges its Hetty Green; while the charity seeker . 
warmly grasps the name " Helen Gould." In the literary 
skies a few stars of the third and fourth magnitudes are 
recognized — as Jean Ingelow, George Eliot, Ella Wheeler 
Wilcox, Mrs. Humphry Ward, Charles Egbert Craddock, 
Harriet Beecher Stow©, Phoebe and Alice Gary, and a few 
others ; while the beloved name " Frances E. Willard " will 
honor the pages of history until the last recorded utterance 
of time. In the language of Barrett : 

" Not woman with traitorous kiss her Savior stung. 
Not she denied him with unholy tongue; 
She, while apostles shrank, could danger brave — 
Last at his cross and earliest at his grave." 

Has woman any influence? What is home without a 
woman ? Home is her chief study, her workshop, her arena. 
Schools, society, church, and nations are but the outgrowth 
of home. This is why " the hand that rocks the cradle 
rules the world." Speak of the world's great heroes — ^we 
find them in the quiet homestead. The heroine of the 
South to-day is not she who longs for the ballot boix, the 
stage, the pulpit, or the bar ; not she who' finds chief delight 
in outer display or greatest gold. The true heroine of the 
South to-day is she who gracefully, wisely, and willingly 
reigns as queen over her little home kingdom, looking to the 
best interests of the girls and boys, engrafting noble princi- 
ples into their hearts. I repeat : this is why " the han.3 
that rocks the cradle rules the world." 



i6o Hearthstonk Echoes. 

Do you ask the extent of woman's power for good ? Eter- 
nity will reply. That her usefulness is greatly impaired 
by the lack of better health, no one will deny. Health, and 
woman did not seem congenial coimpanions; so- they haro 
long since been divorced. Queen Style changes her ideas 
with the ever-changing moon, and commands woman to 
keep step with her. In her efforts to thus maintain her po- 
sition in the social world, woman's mind often becomea 
confused; her body, wearied; the entire telegraphic nerve 
system, unstrung. Man, do not censure too severely her 
frailties, but raise your strong will against this ever-chang- 
ing, oppressive, unjust, ungodly queen. Start her back to 
the " great Paris " (" Paree "), and pray that, happily, the 
ship on which she sails may share the fat© of the Maine. 
Then you will have a more congenial companion, a more 
efficient helpmate; your purse strings will last longer; and 
future generations will rise up and call you " blessed." 

A good sister, wife, mother — " these are they that make 
the poor man rich," says a man of merits He also' says, 
"A man is what a woman makes him ; " that young la- 
dies have it largely in their power to mold the character of 
young men. Then lift your eyes, you fair daughters of 
Tennessee, and behold your work ! " The harvest truly 
is great, but the laborers are few." Go, gather a rich 
harvest of souls, and be assured that a strict account will 
be kept in God's jeweled ledger. Lose no opportunity. 
Doubtless in that " great day coming " many will blush 
with shame or shriek with horror when they see turned to 



Woman's Inpi^uence. i6i 

the left certain young men they might have rescued. 
" Gather up my influence, and bury it with me," have been 
the dying pleadings of a misspent life. If anything could 
cause tears in heaven, it surely would be lost opportunity. 
In the beautiful "city of the dead" at Lexington, Ky., 
stands a tall, handsome monument erected to the memory 
of a young lady, I know not who. Its appearance indi- 
cates wealth and care, but it attracts peculiar attention. 
It is perfectly black, and presents in large, distinct, white 
characters the doleful inscription : " It might have been." 
I know not the story. It may have been a wrecked life; 
it may have been lost opportunity in some other form. Bo 
that as it may, that doleful inscription bespeaks volumes of 
hidden grief and almost curdles my blood as I think of 
it : " It might have been." The passer-by tries to ascertain 
the secret (so he can communicate to others), but the crash- 
ing gravels beneath his feet seem to harshly echo: " It might 
have been." The beautiful evergreens nod to each other, 
then raise their heads and straighten themselves as if in awe ; 
the weeping willow bows low to the inevitable. The lofty 
shafts surrounding it seem tO' gaze in wonder; hundreds 
of buried soldiers who lie near and point their marble slabs 
upward, like so many bayonets, seem to say, " To fight and 
die for our country is sad, but not half so sad as this ; what 
can the trouble be ? " while the stately spire of Henry Clay 
looms high above, and from its lofty perch his marble statue 
points heavenward as if saying : " Up yonder the mystery is 
known — ' it might have been.' " 



i62 He;arthstone; Kchoijs. 

Wliat is the secret of woman's good influence ? Is it her 
beauty ? If so, a large majority of us are sadly exempt 
from sendee. Unlock that large heart of hers, and you 
will find the secret. Her heart is a great coimbination lock. 
Its golden key is love. With it she unlocks other hearts 
and pours in the soothing balm. 

To the mother preeminently is given the faculty for home 
making. 0, that sweet, familiar household cry : " Where's 
mamma '? " How natural, coming from the child just in 
from school or the wearied husband from the storei! It 
should he heard; something seems wrong without it. Woman 
is no longer her own after becoming wife and mother. 
Called of God to fill this position, eternal interests are com- 
mitted to her care ; and the family tie suffers by the loss of 
her personality. She is the humblest of burden bearers, 
and her helping hands and willing feet find plenty to do. 
She enjoys loving, helpful sympathy. Do not be so spar^ 
ing with it, young man, and older one. Do not be afraid 
of " spoiling mother ; " she is made of very good material. 
The growing and distressingly dangerous tendency to-day, 
especially among the young, is to consider other places more 
desirable than homa " Tied to mother's apron string ! " 
exclaims the boy in his early teens. Yes, boys; and stay 
there just as long as you can, lest you become wedded to evil 
habits. Did you know it? Danger comes just after you 
break loose from that famous " string." Look ! See the 
quicksands and whirlpools just beyond ! There darkness 
falls, the wind is high, dense clouds arise^ (Ask some of 



Woman's lNFi.uENc:e. 163 

these older "boys" for a bit of their eixperiencei. ) The 
wreck of boy or girl is often traceable to improper home 
life, but never to the prudent mother's " apron string,''' 
Larger boys, when you have a " night off," call on your 
mother. 

The enthusiastic farmer and his stalwart son are in this 
assembly. God bless them and their faithful, earnest toil ! 
Without them, how very soon would our country co'me to des- 
olation and our appetites to want ! A fertile, well-managed 
farm is a perpetual Klondike. (By the way, boys, on the 
farm is an excellent place to find a wife — a girl with solid, 
practical judgment, education, and experience; not a "bird 
in a gilded cage.") 

" The city has many attractions, 
But think of its vices and woe! 
Better risk the old farm a while longer; 
Don't be in a hurry to go. 

" Better stay on the farm a while longer. 
Though profits come in rather slow. 
Remember, you've nothing to risk, boys; 
Don't be in a hurry to go." 

It is in the farmer's home we find woman's wort 
most effectual. Why ? Because men and boys stay at 
home more closely there. There are not so many induce- 
ments to leave. Their evenings are spent in the home cir- 
cle. Their bodies, after a day's steady work, are tired 
enough to rest ; and at an early hour they lie down to peace- 
ful dreams, exempt from many temptations presented in 
the city. 



164 Hejarthston:^ Echoes. 

Ho"vr attractive the well-regulated farm home — neat, 
comfortable, with its gardens, " its orchards, its meadows, 
its deep-tangled wildwood," its green fields, and its wealth 
of golden grain ; horses, cattle, sheep, and the swine of "olden 
fame " — all with plenty to eat, at home, with man as their 
contented king! In the schoolhouse hang the middlings 
and hams ; in the cellar are bushels of " yellow yams ; " 
that spacious barn is overflowing with com, fodder, and 
new-mown hayj while in the gamer is the stuff to make 
bread of (and to divide with village neighbors). The 
pigeon, without fear of being molested, gracefully sails the 
farm over, surveys his broad heritage, comes back, enters 
the little many-windowed mansion prepared for him on 
the barn top, folds his white wings, and goes to sleep amid 
his multi-feathered companions; and old Tray, after a 
hearty supper, quietly slumbers in his cozy kennel. Eor 
this work of the farmer and his boys we see a counterpart. 
We see woman's footprints — not only on thei piano' treadles 
and around the flower beds, but we also see them as she 
anxiously looks after the turkeys and guineas, carefully 
houses the little chicks, then sees to the butter and eggs, 
which she skillfully converts into " puddings and pies that 
fairly bewilder and dazzle our eyes " as her work-weary feet 
tread " that old kitchen floor." Day's work ended, supper 
over, nuts cracking in the corner, " whitecaps " playing 
" leapfrog " in the corn popper, music in the parlor, Tabby 
sleeping on the rug, the cricket chirping under the hearth, 
the katydid without, papa reading the Book of Truth, all 



"Th^ Baby." 165 

lovingly coramitted into the Father's keeping, a good-night 
kiss, " Good night ! " — a model Christian home, a beautiful 
type of heaven, the nursery of heaven, heaven begun. Loved 
ones departing are links connecting earth with heaven. 

Woman in this home: First, she is baby girl; then 
she is sister J wife, mother — ^with influence all the way — 
touching with magic spark the heart of humanity to kindle 
a flame divine. She is your mother now, her dark locks 
" blondined " by the chemicals of time. She has arranged 
for a crown *' over the river," and will soon go to receive it. 
While she is with you, respect hex. If you love heo*, tell 
her so. Do not wait to express all your appreciation in 
marble and floral praises over her grave. If you love her, 
" speak it out." 



'* THE BABY/' 

To watch and to nourish with tenderest care 

This life bud is placed in our trust. 
Its petals will open the flower to declare, 
Which may be a rose, or a lily so fair. 

Or a thistle to encumber the dust. 
May Heaven direct it to blossom aright. 

To lift its head toward the fair sky. 
To open its petals in heavenly light. 
And thus be a flower so pure and so bright. 

Accepted in mansions on high. 

Emblem of innocence, plaintive little dove. 

Like Noah from the ark did release 
To secure the bright token of heavenly love. 
To carry the message as sent from above. 
The olive leaf — emblem of peace. 



i66 Hearthstone Echoes. 

May love, peace, and honor this loved one attend. 

His pathway with blessings be strown, 
Humility and truth in his character blend, 
And Jesus, our Savior, to him be a friend. 

While mercy from heaven is shown. 

An innocent lamb, with a Shepherd on high. 

Who o'er him close vigils can keep. 
Who will come with a heavenly host by and by, 
While anthems of praises resound through the sky. 

And gather to heaven his sheep. 
May this, our little darling, be one of the fold 

Received in that eternal home. 
Abounding in joys and pleasures untold. 
Whose gates are of pearl and whose streets are of gold. 

Where all of the ransomed shall roam. 

[Later. — The bud had opened almost the last folded 
petals into sweet maturity, when it was plucked and carried 
hence. The dove took its flight from earth; the Shepherd 
lifted his lamb across the tidal wave.] 



DIXIE WHISPERS. 

With other members of our family, I spent the winter of 
189-1- and 1895 in the fair Southland. The scenery on our 
way was varied — from low marshes to level cotton fields; 
thence to the rocky heights of the Cumberland Mountain, 
with its Lookout Mountain overlooking beautiful Chatta- 
nooga and smiling down on the fertile valleys quietly sleep- 
ing in the mountain's arms. We passed myriads of cedars 
as beautifully and symmetrically shaped as if trimmed by 
the fingers of art; then thousands of acres of lofty pines, 
with one side gashed about three feet above the ground, from 



DixiK Whispers. 167 

whieh ineisions the turpentiiie flows. As this dries, it turns 
white, and, covering about half the trunk of each tree from 
the gash to the ground, looks very much like tombstones. 
On a moonlight night these turpentine orchards resemble 
immense graveyards. 

The people of Florida possess many charming traits. 
They are large-hearted, kind, and unselfish, seeming to lose 
sight of self in trying to make others happy. They are 
a true type of genuine hospitality. They greeted us 
more like cherished schoolmates than strangers. Children, 
herein lies a useful lesson. As there is a difference in 
greetings, there is a corresponding difference in the feel- 
ings of guests. In our beloved, our native, Tennessee, as 
elsewhere, when we see strangers enter school or church, 
we often look and act as if afraid of them; roll our eyes 
wildly at them, as if suspecting them to be^ refugees from 
smallpox or yellow fever, bringing germs of the contagion 
for our especial benefit. Many times we are too economical 
with our thoughtfulness, our smiles, our kind words, and 
our hand shakes. 

Most of the tropical fruits are too well known to need 
describing, such as the orange, lemon, lime, grapefruit, 
guava, banana, Japan persimmon, Japan plum, pomegran* 
ate, etc. There are also large pear orchards, from which 
much fruit is shipped, dried and canned. 

The Florida climate is delightful. During most of the 
winter the weather is similar to our balmy May, summer 
vegetables growing luxuriantly in fields and gardens in mid- 



1 68 Hearthstone Echoes. 

winter. Vegetation grows as if by magic in the warm, 
sandy loam, tliough tlie soil, as a rule, is not very fertile. 
If a freeze kills a crop of vegetables, others are planted in- 
stead, and but little time is lost. There is great diversity 
in the forest growth. Sometimes the train is passing 
through dense forests of scrub oak, water oak, magnolia, 
persimmon, cabbage palmetto, etc., darkened by jungles of 
thick undergrowth and rendered almost impenetrable by 
saw palmetto and other productions of the swamp, when 
suddenly all becomes light, with nothing to be seen except 
tall pine trees, draped with large cords of long, flowing moss, 
lonesomely waving like weeping willows over myriads of 
little mounds of fresh sand thrown above the surface by the 
salamander. The change back to the hammock land is just 
as sudden — like going through a thick forest, then abruptly 
into a cleared field, thence into another dense forest. This 
sudden change in natural growth makes a peculiar, impres- 
sion on the mind. The salamander I alluded toi some- 
what resembles a large rat, and burrows in the ground, living 
on various kinds of roots, sometimes interrupting potatoes 
and other vegetables. He does his work on the under- 
mining principle, like certain sins we know of. Some 
localities are destitute of the long, gray moss, and the wind 
sighs mournfully in the lofty pine tops. In other places 
the mossy fringe is so heavily draped as to appear burden- 
some to the trees, hanging in cords from three feet tO' twelve 
or fifteen feet long, blown and twisted by the wind, and 
looking like immense ropes dangling in the breeze. This 



DixiK Whispers. 169 

peculiar growth is not confined to any species of trees, but 
grows thriftily on all, from the topmost bough of the lofty, 
long-leafed pine to the lowest limb of the orange or the 
tiny branches of the pretty, scrubby rosemary. It is a 
grand, but somewhat lonesome, sight to see forest trees and 
imdergrowth thus draped, reminding us a little of our Ten- 
nessee forests after a moderate snowfall. In factories tliis 
moss is deprived of its gray covering and converted into 
mattresses and other useful articles. We were peculiarly 
impressed with the camphor tr©e, whose leaves, wben 
bruised, give forth a strong odor of gum camphor ; also with 
the rubber tree, with its long, blunt, leafless arms, resem- 
bling some kinds of cactus. 

But few churches and schoolhouses have any arranget- 
ments for fire, a.nd many large families have been, reared 
in houses not even ceiled and with no place for fire, except 
in the cooking stove ; but the balmy Floral State experiences 
some cold weather, which, fortunately, does not last long. 
It is said that the summers are made pleasant by tbe health- 
ful sea breeze, and that there sunstrokes are unknown. In 
consequence of the deep sand, walking is very tiresome in 
roads much traveled. Instead of wanting rain to " settle 
tbe dust," they want it thecre to " settle the sand," thus 
making travel more pleasant. 

PONDS AND LAKES. 

There are many large, peculiar ponds and chains of ponds 
throughout the State, abounding in fishes, snakes, alligators, 



170 Hearthstone Echoes. 

cypress knees, tall cypress trees, water lilies, etc. Among 
the chief attractions should be mentioned those large, beau- 
tiful, transparent lakes, which in grandeur mirror the sun, 
moon, and stars, and whose borders are fringed with almoet 
perfect reflections of the various tropical growths in which 
they (these great water mirrors) are framed. Some of 
the lakes are several miles in extent, and are a source of de- 
light to the hungry fisherman as he merrily plays over their 
silvery ripples, gathering into his little^ boat the scaly wealth. 

SILVER SPRING. 

What I regard as one of Florida's greatest beauties is 
Silver Spring, six miles from Ocala. Were I to attempt 
a full description of this, my " magnificent failure " would 
be but a burlesque on the English language. Poets may 
write and men of eloquence may multiply flowers of speech 
trying to paint a word picture of the beauties of that won- 
derful spring, but, after labored attempts, they will bo 
forced to say: "Pardon me; I am unfitted for the tsaak." 
I had heard of Silver Spring and its marvelous beauties, 
but, after seeing fo^r myself, I was fully ready to admit 
there is but one way to realize its attractiveness^ aja.d 
that is to do' as I did — go and see for yourself. However, 
I will try to give the children a faint idea of its appearance. 

When we arrived, there were (waiting for our train) 
three good-sized steamboats in the head of the spring, which 
is said tO' be more than one hundred yards across. The 
largest boat was the steamer Okahumkee. Besides, there 



DixiB Whispers. 171 

were three smaller steamers, a large freight boat, and two 
or three rowboats only a few paces down the stream. (Be 
it remembered, this spring is the head of Ocklawaha 
River, and the boats on it pass into the St. Jolms Eiver.) 
Our little crowd of six chose the best sight^seeing way — 
entered a rowboat, with a skillful manager, and sailed down 
the stream about half a mile, stopping every few moments, 
humbling ourselves by placing our eyes down near the wa- 
ter and beholding the beauties beneath. Every imagina- 
ble variety of vegetation that grows in fresh water is surely 
there represented — mosses, grasses, ferns; some, bright 
green ; somei, dark ; some, dotted with small, white flowers, 
which look like little stars ; others, covered with a white sedi- 
ment or substance which gives them the exact appearance 
of being frosted or crystallized. 

The peculiar attraction of this spring is the exceeding 
transparency of its water, seeming to actually magnify, like 
some powerful lens, everything in the bottom appearing 
e\''en more distinct than if viewed simply through the purest, 
clearest atmosphere, though the water is from thirty feet to 
ninety feet deep. Here we would see a large patch of long- 
bladed grass, which appeared almost near enough the sur- 
face to be reached by the hand; there, a large species of 
moss arising several feet from the ground, in various shadea 
of green, some almost pure white and looking like gigantic 
coral standing in the water. A little farther away we would 
behold peculiar bluish, silvery-looking somethings several 
yards in diameter. On approaching we would find them 



172 Hearths'tone Echoes. 

to be places free from vegetation, covered with whit© piioe- 
phate, sand, and shells, with now and then a bottle or other 
small object, which had been intentionallv dropped from 
the surface and which could be seen as distinctly as the 
small turtles crawling over the shells and gliding through 
the deep water. The fish in great numbers appeared to be 
on " dress parade," and seemed to delight in sporting lei- 
surely in tbe crystal stream and then quietly passing out of 
sight behind vines, grass, and mosses, as if challenging us 
for a game of " hide and seek." We passed over many 
large trees, which probably for ages have been buried in 
this watery grave so deep that large steamers can pass over 
them unmolested, and yet whose limbs seem in a perfect 
state of preservation and still cling firmly to their strong 
bodies. I thought our boatman was about to run against 
a limb, and, womanlike, took liberty to caution him. He 
smiled, tben pleasantly info'rmed m© that the limbs were 
all many feet below the surface. On© woman (not myself 
this time) kept reaching into the water for moss and sea- 
weeds, which appeared within reach. Of course we all 
laughed at her. We passed over several " natural wells " 
(correctly named), which are deep, round holes in the river 
bed. We could see sand boiling up in some of theim. The 
depth of some has never been ascertained. To vary the 
scenery, we occasionally looked up and admired the water 
lilies near the shores ; then the dense, viny hammock, with 
its live oaks, magnolias, cabbage palmettoes, cypress, and 
pines. Having returned to the head of the spring, we stood 



Dixie; Whispe;rs. 173 

on a high platform. We gazed, we wondered, we admired ; 
and while greedily partaking of our lunch, we occasionally 
cast a piece of biscuit or a chicken bone to the multitude of 
small fishes and watched them dart toward the surface to 
meet it, then follow it down, down, nibbling at it as it 
slowly sunk in the crystal depths, their number being rap- 
idly reinforced by scores of others which seemed to have 
been in ambush among the water weeds, all appearing ex- 
cited, like boys at football. We then involuntarily f ast-ened 
our eyes on other beauties buried thirty feeti beneath the 
liquid waves — tin cans, bottles, bright pieces of tin, strips 
of palmetto leaves, papers, and various otheir objects, each 
of which shone like a beautiful moon or star as it was rer 
fleeted by the sun and refracted by the light and water until 
it appeared near the surface. It is said (and I doubt it not) 
that a silver dime or a finger ring can be distinctly seen at 
the bottom of this spring. It is astomshing how slowly 
even a rock appears to sink in this stream and how long 
it is in reaching the bottom. 

To try to describe this marvelous kaleidoscope of nature 
would be like attempting a description of the starry firma> 
ment, and who feels capacitated to do that ? The best that 
can be done is to use the best descriptive language avail- 
able, then lay down the pen and say : " Come, expressive 
Silence, muse its praises." 

THE PALMETTO. 

Of this beautiful native growth there are several varie- 
ties. Hundreds of acres are covered with the scrub, or 



174 He;arthston:e; Echoes. 

saw, palmetto, which has heretofore been regarded as a 
nuisance — an unmitigated pest to- the tillers of th.e soil — ■ 
on account of its many tangled, matted roots, which make 
" clearing " alrhost impossible. It is said that " the cost 
of clearing an acrei of land of this growth is often much 
greater than the price of a dozen acres of the rough." The 
scrubby tops of the plant become so' matted as to' be an al- 
most impassable barrier of tangled undergrowth. How- 
ever, its beautiful fan-shaped leaves have long been used in 
decorations, in making ornamental articles — such as fans, 
etc. — and during the war of the sixties the women of the 
South iised them ex^tensively in manufacturing baskets, 
mats, hats, etc., many of which are still in serviceable con- 
dition, so durable is the material. The plant is now re- 
ceiving considerable attention, being regarded as a fruitful 
source of both health and wealth. Various medicinesi are 
said to be manufactured from the saw palmetto. Its roots, 
so fibrous, are being made into various kinds of scrub 
brushes and other articles of convenience; an.d sincei it has 
been recently ascertained that these roots are rich in tannic 
acid, factories are already in operation extracting this acid 
and tanning leather therewith. One of the most impor- 
tant uses for which the saw palmetto is available, however, 
is in the making of paper. It has been thus used for many 
years in Asia, but not in America until very recently. 
Doubtless it will erelong supply the great and increasirg 
demand for a satisfactory substitute for wood pulp in paper 
making. The palmetto " flats " can furnish an inexhausti- 



Dixie; Whispers. 175 

ble supply, for sO' long as the roots are left in the ground 
the tops will be abundantly reproduced. The tops may be 
harvested for paper manufacture every year, with positive 
assurance that ano'ther abundant crop will be forthcoming 
the next season; and it is believed that before long the 
finest and best paper will be made therefrom. Many of 
God's works we reject with disdain because of our oiwn lack 
of knowledge and investigation. 

The cabbage palmetto is a peculiar tree. It is an ever- 
green, shaped somewhat like the pine, though not sO' tall, 
with no limbs, but with immense feathery-looking leaves, 
whose stems, several feet long, resemble limbs. As the 
palmetto shrub begins to develop intO' a tree, its lower leaves 
fall off, leaving these long stems cupping aro'und and cling- 
ing with great tenacity to the trunk and resembling broad 
basket splits. These form a complete network, a beauti- 
ful and systematic bonelike cage for the body of the tree, 
and sometimes remain until the trunk is a foot or two in 
diameter and twenty or thirty feet high; then, beginning 
at the bottom, they fall off, one by one, as the tree grows 
old and its bark hardens so as not to need protection. 
These trees are about as large at the top as near the ground, 
many of them larger, and as blunt as any cactus, simply 
finished with a heavy bunch of leaves extending from ten 
to thirty feet in diameter. It is said that bears climb these 
trees to obtain the delicious bud. The small, black berries, 
growing in large bunches between the leaves, are eixcellent 
food for hogs, and are sometimes substituted for grease in 



176 Hearthstone Echoes. 

soap making. The large, white, tender bud tastes very 
much like cabbage., only it is sweeter, milde^r, and is good, 
wholesome food, either cooked or otherwise. 

THE SAND SPUE. 

Where so much sweet abounds we may naturally expect 
at least a small portion of bitter. I must not fail to tell 
the children about the barefooted boy's foe, the little sand 
spur. It resembles a small cocklebur ; but its thorns seem 
to be bearded, making it very difficult to extract them and 
causing the wounds to be painful and sometimes danger- 
ous. The sand spur is a complete hypocrite — a " snake 
in the grass " — growing on a kind of low grass along the 
edges of the sandy roads, not showing itself until it pierces 
the foot almost like a needle. It is rarely found in dense 
forests or well-cultivated fields, but seems to sit as a beg- 
gar by the wayside — a kind of hidden trap to catch the 
person who turns aside from the old, beaten path. Per- 
sons can soon learn where to expect the sand spur — on the 
short stem by the broad blades of low grass in which it nes- 
tles; but this grass looks so' harmless it is hard tO' real- 
ize it conceals any sting. Its leaf closely resembles that 
of the wild, delicious little grass nut of our country. A 
friend with whom I was walking one day suddenly said: 
"You better ' keep in the middle of the road.' " I 
told her I was tired of walking in the deep sand. She 
replied : " Yes, and your fingers will be tired and sore by 
the time you get all the sand spurs off your dress." Sure 



DixiiS Whisp]Srs. 177 

enough, I picked off one hundred and five, after our walk 
was ended, and put them with other relics to bring home 
with me. She cautioned me to cork them securely in a lit- 
tle bottle, lest some of them should accidentally be imbedded 
in Tennessee soil. I carefully followed her advice; and, 
after reaching home, I decided to boil them, thus utterly 
destroying all germinating possibilities. 

Lessons: (1) Sin is deceptive as the sand spur. (2) 
Sin is least common amid the live, dense forests and thor- 
oughly cultivated fields of intellectual and spiritual devel- 
opment. (3) Sin often lurks where least expected, fre- 
quently planting itseK along the highways, as if to catch 
the unsuspecting passer-by. (4) Sin is a kind of secreted 
trap, and is sure to catch the person who simply borders 
along on the " strait and narrow way " instead of walking 
therein. (5) We may often learn exactly where to find 
sin — among its usual associates — ^most frequently nestling 
in low crowds. (6) Some forms of vice bear such close 
resemblance to righteousness as to be mistaken therefor; 
but on close examination the fruit proves to be — ^not the 
pleasant-tasted little grass nut, but the torturing sand spur 
of deception. (7) In traveling life's great highway, we 
had better " keep in the middle of the road," though our 
feet grow weary of the monotonous sands of time ; for if we 
stray off to one side, we are liable to come in contact with 
the sand spurs of vice which may cling to us throughout the 
journey. (8) If perchance we have in our control the very 
seeds from which sin is produced, let us absolutely destroy 



178 Hearthstone Echoes. 

their germinating properties, not even risk bottling them, 
as I did th.e souvenir sand spurs, lest they accidentally be- 
come imbedded in some person's heart and life. (9) The 
thorns of sin are bearded, not easily extracted, and fre- 
quently pierce the body and fatally penetrate the soul. Let 
us beware as to where we place our feet, our hands, our 
hearts, our thoughts. 

THE OKANGE. 

A charming sight is a large grove of thrifty orange trees 
whose limbs are bending with golden fruit, so beautifully 
blended with the dark, rich, glossy evergreen foliage. We 
found such groves almost as common in Florida as our 
cornfields or cotton fields in Tennessee. Where we made 
our first home there was a great variety of tropical fruits ; 
and, best of all, our yard was an orange grove, laden with 
luscious fruit, to which we had a standing invitation, which 
we did not tJ*eat with disdain (we did not desire to thus 
wound the feelings of our clever host and his excellent fam- 
ily) . As there were many kinds, of course we had to sam.' 
pie each to decide which we liked best;, then would soon 
forget, and would have to go to the trouble (?) of sampling 
again. This was our fate (?) day after day for five long 
weeks; but the trees showed no marks of displeasure, did 
not even look as if we had ever visited them. We tried not 
to be greedy, lest we should appear " green ; " so we only 
visited the trees before and after breakfast, dinner, and sup- 
per, and now and then between meals. The little children 



Dixie; Whispers. i79 

gathered a large water bucket full, or more, every evening, 
and had them in the sitting room for all of us to eat at night 
after coming from preaching. (My husband was conduct- 
ing a meeting there. ) 

It is astonishing to see the amount of fruit these trees 
can bear and yet not break — ^the wood is so very tough. 
I do not remember seeing one broken limb in any grove 
we visited or passed, although some were bowed to the 
ground. Even the heavy ladders (used in gathering), when 
rudely thrown against the limbs, found firm support, not 
breaking even the twigs. This peculiarly strong texture 
is a wise provision of providence, without which the trees 
would suffer violently. 

I noticed a very peculiar feature about the orange; that 
is, it rarely ever falls from the tree, unless faulty. Occa- 
sionally I would see a nice-looking orange on the ground and 
pick it up, but almost invariably by looking carefully I 
could deteet a flaw, usually where it had been pierced by a 
thorn. This reminds me of church members. Where they 
are pure — true tO' the faith — ^they will cling to the church, 
like the orange to its parent stem, until plucked by the 
Master to be shipped to another country. When one falls, 
you may observe that he has let some weakness overcome 
him ; has been unsteady, too " shaky ; " and has permitted 
the winds of adversity to beat him too hard against the 
world, like the orange against the thorny bough. Sometimes 
the orange that falls is one of the finest-looking on the tree, 
and it is only after careful examination that the cause of 



i8o . Hearthstone Echoes. 

the fall can be detected. So with the fallen chiirch nLem- 
her. Sometimes he is one who has always been regarded 
as a stanch member — solid, faithful; but when tested, it 
becomes evident tbat he has permitted Satan's wily darts to 
pierce his heart, and thus has separated himself from the 
" true vine." 

THE FREEZES. 

For five weeks it was our glad privilege to see Florida 
arrayed in her native glory; then (December 28 and 29) 
came that noted and very destructive freeze, which had not 
been equaled in sixty years, and she was deprived of her 
golden wealth. This freeze was soon followed by anotlier 
(February 7 and 8), even more severe. All the groves 
in Northern and Central Florida were completely killed, 
thus destroying a perpetual fortune of the State. Flower 
yards and gardens were divested of their glory. The mod- 
est little angels of nature drooped and died. Ponds were 
frozen over; water pipes were burst; long icicles hung as 
crystal pendants from the tanks. We saw two young calves 
running and skipping through the forest, as if half in play 
and half in terror, near where lay the lifeless bodies of 
their own mothers, victims of the unwonted freeze^ We 
went to Cedar Keys on tbe evening of the first freeze, 
and on the way passed a number of houses where there were 
large fires in the yards, around which the families were 
hovered, " shivering in the cold." We found the us.uaily 
delightful gulf breeze suddenly converted intot a regular 



Dixi:e Whispers. i8i 

northeir, whistling in all its Western fnry, freezing even 
the salt water of the great gulf as it was dashed upon the 
shore. Thousands of frozen fishes were washed ashore by 
tidal waves. The destruction of fish was very serious to 
those who, like the fishermen of Galilee, spent most of their 
time plowing the blue waters for a living. This violent 
freeze seemed to be a dire disaster to poor Florida; and 
it does not yet appear that its damage can ever be fully com- 
pensated, though many young groves have been set out since 
the freeze, and some of them are beginning to yield fruit. 
The loss may prove to be a blessing in disguise — may cause 
the people to develop their varied capabilities and bring to 
light the many possibilities of Southern soil hitherto un- 
known. 

CEDAR KEYS. 

We foimd much to interest us in this group of many 
small islands, which was at one time termed the " Venice 
of America," but which now shows serious neglect and the 
effect of two storms that swept mercilessly along the gulf 
shore a few years since. Many of the houses are built of 
concrete — a mixture of shells, lime> and sand, molded like 
large brick, about one and one-half feet by three f eet^ These 
shell bricks, cemented together, form the massive walls, very 
durable and attractive^ at a short distance having the ap- 
pearance of rustic stone; but on approach they show that 
each section is a consolidated mass of various kinds of sea- 
shells. We spent many hours " gathering up the shells 



i82 Hbarthston^ Echoes. 

from the seashore " and ooUecting other relics to carry back 
to friends in Tennessee ; and, seeing so many kinds, of fish, 
shells, weeds, and other curiosities of the seia, we decided 
it was a debatable question as to whether the wonders 
of the land were more marvelous than those of the deep. 

There being but little room for traveling even on tbe 
largest island, Way Key, there were very few horses and 
buggies and not a wagoiL Drays were used, even as con- 
veyancee in funeral processions. There was not a horse, on 
the sister island, Atsena Otie, and the only vehicle (?) 
there was the wheelbarrow; therefore they have no need 
for the middle of their streets, except as a place to deposit 
rubbish, of which there is but little^. On this little island 
we walked over the graveyard, finding many graves entirely 
covered with shells. We saw the " bier " on which, in the 
absence of horse and hearse;, a lifeless body is carried by 
six men. from the residence to the grave. It is simply a 
flat, wooden frame, I imagine similar to that from which 
triumphantly arose, at the Savior's bidding, the son of " the 
widow of ITain." On the principal island, while tbe Eagle 
Pencil Factory was in operation, we were conducted through 
by the courteous proprietor, who explained to us each 
process through which the cedar passed, from the time the 
rustic logs were floated there in rafts for many, many miles 
till the material was ready for shipment to New York for 
completion. From the sawdust is extracted the rare cedar 
oil used as the basis of many liniments and perfumes. 

The scenery at Cedar Keys is varied and interesting. 



Dixie Whispers. 183 

ligature has done a marvelous work there, and art has dona 
a respectable one. We could stand on the wharf and see 
an ice factory, three pencil factories, and other industries ; 
we could watch the train as it came from afar, crossed the 
broad bayou on a high wooden bridg'ei, and landed its pas- 
sengers on a " dock " over water many feet deep; we could 
see shell mounds, shell bluffs, shell houses, shell street® and 
streets paved with shells, walks of shells through yards and 
gardens, and car loads of shells still lying in heaps along the 
shore; yet, go to the fish houses when we would, we would 
find greedy man still busy divesting the poor little oyster of 
its shell. From the same wharf we could look do'Wn. and 
watch the weary fishermen unload their boats; we could see 
wagon loads of fish and oj^sters brought therefro'm into- the 
fish houses and prepared for shipment ; then we could raise 
our eyes and watch the many fish boats., sponge boats, and 
turtle boats sailing in various directio'ns. ; now and then a 
sailbo'at, like a snow-white swan, with outstretched wings, 
gently gliding along its watery path ; then a swift steamer, 
with its massive columns of smoke curling upward as if 
trying to darken the silver lining of the fleecy clouds or 
change into " smoked pearls " the bright " diamonds in the 
sky ; " and yonder a lighthouse, ever ready, when the shad- 
ows deepen, to point out to the mariner the deadly breakers. 
We could look over the billowy waters and see island after 
island blending away in the dim distance, gaze beyond at 
the world of water until it met the distant horizon, then 
raise our eves skyward and admire the many-tinted clouds 



i84 Hearthstone; Echoes. 

pictured oai the delicate background of blue and mirrored 
on the quivering bosom of tlie deep. 

We went on board the Belle of Suwannee, a medium- 
sized steamer that plows the gulf and goes " 'way do-wn 
upon de S'wannee Riber " toward " de ole plantation " con- 
cerning which the soing author obtained undying f ama 

THE GEEAT GULF, 

March 20, 1895, was the windiest day of the season. 
Part of that day we spent gazing on the rufSed bosoni of the 
great gulf, as it was maddened by the unusual rush of wind 
from the southwest. At noon the tide was exceedingly 
high, and still rising. We watched the myriads of " white- 
caps " as they danced like things of life over the surging 
deep ; we watched the bouncing billows as, in their mad fury, 
they dashed against the wharf; we watched many small 
boats — reeling, rocking, tossed headlong by wind and 
waves, sometimes their prow's buried many feet beneath the 
rushing billows, the next mo'ment high in the air. The 
fishermen had left their boats securely anchored and had 
fled to the land, for safety. While standing by the hotel 
window, I counted thirty-six boats. But look! Yonder 
goes a sailboat crossing the bay tO' Atsena Otie. It has 
passengers on board, but not for the wealth of Florida would 
/ be one of them. Winged, foaming steed of the sea ! 
Like an unruly steed, it is plunging headlong — ^bo'unding, 
leaping, bouncing over the waves, the foaming water splash- 
ing, dashing, lashing its sides in wild fury and throwing 



DixiB Whispers. 185 

the silvery spray over its topi, leaving it apparently foam- 
ing and dripping with perspiration, caused by the intense 
ecseitement and overexertion of the stormy voyage^. Landed 
in safety at last! What a eulogy on the one who* con- 
structed that boat and on thei skillful manager ! The boat 
was made of strong, sound material, and so' constructed 
that wind and waves could not easily upset or injure it- 
After the winds had calmly folded their fluttering wings 
and the April sun had warmed tiie atmosphere, we were 
twice favored with a delightful sail on a neat little sailboat, 
the Eagle. We went several miles, through Waccasasa 
Bay and out into the Gulf of Mexico prosper. It would take 
a sharper pencil than mine to describe the magnificent 
scenery on those short, voyages. We amused ourselves by 
watching the pelican, the loon, the " negro goose " (black 
as a crow), the seagull, and various other winged fisher- 
men as they " sailed the seas over " and skimmed the turbid 
waters in quest of food. We watched the porpoises (a kind 
of small whales) as they innocently played along near the 
sides of our boat, jumping out of the water, each seeming to 
form itself into a kind of large wheel, then, lowering its 
head, rolled back into the water. We gazed with wonder at 
some odd figures, of many bright colors, bouncing up and 
down in the water^ like the mammoth heads of gigantic 
animals hidden beneath the wava We learned they were 
"buoys," made of cork or some other light sub-stance 
and fastened to dangerous rocks as a warning to sailors. 
We watched the silvery ripples as they merrily danced in 



1 86 Hearthstone Echoes. 

the sunlight, reflecting in beauty each, ray of the s^un, as if 
in gratitude for his gentle, warming beams. 

We are all constantly sailing — not across the Waccasasa 
Bay, not across the Gulf of Mexico, but across the stormy 
sea called " Time;." Let us thoroughly examine the vessel 
carrying us across. Through the instruction of our Guide- 
book we can test every piece of timber used in our ship, 
and can know if it is able to weather the blasts to which 
it is liable to be exposed. 

SUNRISE AND SUNSET. 

A most interesting sight is to watch the great day king 
as in the early morning he calmly arises above the bosom 
of the gulf, fresh in his beauty and grandeur, and firmly, 
though kindly, bids darkness depart. At his steady ap- 
proach the moon and stars modestly veil their fair faces 
and retire from seirvice until further needed ; each blade of 
grass, each flower, each leaf, casts off its dark night robe 
and puts on its Sunday dress ; each sparkling billow throws 
a kiss at him as he triumphantly passes over. Calmly and 
steadily he glides along, until the great hour hand tells us 
we must soon bid him adieu. Lower and lower he sinks ; 
brighter and more beautiful becomes his reflection. He 
soon reaches the westecm slo'pes of day. We know he soon 
must depart. We watch, we gaze, we admirei, we behold the 
glorious halo he spreads over everything. !N^ow he is 
almost gone; now he flashes forth again as if desirous of 
taking one more look at oui' little city before bidding it good 



Dixie Whispkrs. 187 

night. He trembles ; he quiveirs ; he sends back a depart- 
ing smile toward Cedar Keys; he apparently sinks into a 
watery grave; he is gone. We feel a strange vacancy in 
our hearts^ and would be too sad to be comforted were it 
not for the hope that after the sleep of night we will be per- 
mitted again to behold him. 

Thus with the Christian friend. We watch him as he 
gently glides across life's ocean, shedding a halo' of glory on 
all around him, letting his light so shine as to prevent many 
a weary mariner's becoming wrecked on the shoals and break- 
ers. His light is beautifully reflected from the ripples and 
billows, growing brighter and brighter as he approaches the 
westeirn shore. We know we soon must give him up, and 
how can we sutain the loss ? He is sinking ; he is almost 
gone. See the brightness of his co'untenance, the result of 
right living! The community rejoices that he has lived. 
He speaks encouragingly to God's faithful servants, then 
sounds a note of warning to the wicked. He can do no 
more; his voice is stilled; his work is dona He quivers 
in the breath of death, revives for a moment, whispers to 
his loved ones to press forward for the prize, kisses them 
good-by, casts a radiant smile on those around him — is 
gone! How can we give up such a loved one? If death 
ends all, we are miserable. But listen ! The gentle Spirit 
whispers through the word of truth : " Let not your hearts 
be troubled." After the sleep of death, " when the roll is 
called up yonder," all who have lived righteously shall meet 
again and shall shine with resplendent glory. 



1 88 Hearthstone; Echoes. 

Let us not be a storm cloudj darkening the way for cur- 
selves and others ; but let us each try to be a ray from, the 
great spiritual lighthouse, that some storm-tossed soul may 
thereby be rescued and that we may be safely anchored be- 
yond the mystic sea in the " haven of rest" 



THISTLE DOWN. 

What is it I see flying through the air ? Is it a swarm 
of grasshoppers ? Is it a host of do-^vny featliers blown 
hither and thither by the breezes ? Are the angels, as the 
little girl says, shedding their pretty white feathers and let- 
ting them fall to earth for children to play with ? Won- 
der what it is! It looks more like myriads of snowflakes 
escaped from the clouds and blown by wintr^^ breezes. Can 
this be? ISTo-; for this is a beautiful, bright, balmy Au- 
gust day; and this place — Corinth, Miss., where I am wait- 
ing for the " train to take dinner " — is only in latitude 
thirty-five degrees north. There is no snow here to-day. 
But look ! Yonder arises a rain cloud about the size of the 
eventful one seen by Elijah's servant. It is sending its 
messenger breezes ahead to notify us that about the middle 
of the afternoon, while the train on the great Southern 
Railway shall be going at cannon-ball speed between Cor- 
inth and Tuscumbia, we passengers will begin to fear the 
approach of a cyclone. And thus it came to pass. The 
train seemed to be racing with the cloud, like Jezebel of old, 



Thisti.B Down, 189 

and, like her again, was overtaken and flooded with rain; 
but no harm was done. 

But what aboiut our little white objects we^ werci watch- 
ing from the train window at Corinth ? What were they, 
and what became of them? We know not how far they 
floated through the air, urged on by the brisk breezes ; but 
we feel sure many acres were sown with seed to produce a 
piercing crop the next year, for the pret.ty little downy things 
were thistle seeds. Only a few years ago, at most, one tiny 
seed was set adrift from the mother stalk somewhere, we 
know not whera After some meanderings, by chancei it fell 
near the railroad crossing at Corinth. l!^o one observed it. 
Had it been seen, no notice would have been, given it. ; for it 
was only a trifle — a little downy, trivial seed. But in its 
own quiet, unassuming way it sought shelter under a blade 
of grass and nestled down in the blackened soil. It slept ; 
it died ; its little body began to decay. Months were swept 
back among the yesterdays. King Winter rigidly ruled 
until at his death the kingdom was quietly given into the 
hands of the vernal queen. Then came the annual resur- 
rection mom. The little seed heart that had in some mys- 
terious way been preserved awoke from its death slumber, 
shook off its musty mantle, raised its new head, and opened 
its new eyes to the light of day. Time, with! fluttering 
wings, sailed on. By and by over the deserted grave of this 
thistle seed stood a giant stalk, adorned with branches, 
leaves, buds, flowers, and seed burs — all beautiful and 
showing a power more than human. Like cottoo bolls. 



iQo Hearthstone Echoes. 

the burs began to open, and soon the air around was filled 
with flying seeds, which at last imbedded themselves in the 
fertile soil, sprang forth at the appointed time, and con- 
verted the surrounding spacer into this garden of thistles. 
Each stalk is covered with its piercing needles and sends 
forth its thousands of seeds to be carried elsewhere om the 
wings of the wind. 

A little bird, carrying material to build its nest, acei- 
dentally drops a seed in an old field. Next year a mam- 
moth thistle grows there, producing thousands of seed, 
which, in turn, produce multiplied thousands, until the field 
becomes a mass of thistles. Thus evil can be propagated. 
The " little bird " is always ready and anxious to carry the 
seed, and the " rich soil " (the hum.an heart) is ready to 
receive and nourish it. We usually reap what we sow, in- 
creased by a prodigious multiplier. Sow slang, reap pro- 
fanity. Give a little boy a cigarette or glass of toddy. 
Result: Tobacco- using and intemperance. So' with sharp, 
harsh words. We may think they fall unheeded, but they 
often find sad lodgment in a tender heart and bring forth 
bitter fruits — " some thirty, some sixty, and some a hun- 
dredfold." This fruit sometimes proves to be harsh words 
of retaliation; at other times, heart throbs and sighs and 
tears of anguish. Is it not astonishing that persons can 
endure more hardness from any other source than from 
those dearest to> their own hearts ? (I suppose it is because 
they feel like they are wounding themselves.) The hus- 
band, though de^'O'ted, sometimes speaks rather unkindly; 



Thistle Down. 191 

the wife '' takes it up," will have her rights — that is, the 
" last word ; " children join in the chorus — some, with 
" papa ; " others, '' not going tO' see mamma imposed 
on." These thistle seeds keep spreading until tjiey " tickle " 
the neighbors' ears ; then the little " bird " finds employ- 
ment. Did you ever think of it — when we use a harsh 
word we are planting seed for an abundant " crop ? " By- 
ron once said : 

" The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree 
I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed. 
I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed." 

We should use our " guest's voice " at home among loved 
ones, not save it altogether for strangers and visitors. We 
can also spare some for them. Our best dress will soon 
fade or wear out if worn every day. l^ot thus with our best 
/''acZdress ; " it will grow prettier and better every day by 
constant use. Four things we can use every day — and 
Sunday, too — without wearing them out or soiling them: 
best handwriting, best manners, best words, best religion. 
We are prone to use them rather sparingly — to save them 
for company and for Sunday, as if fearful the supply will 
soon be exhausted if used much. It was Massey who said : 

" There's no dearth of kindness 
In this world of ours. 
Only in our blindness 
We gather thorns for flowers." 

" Kind words are better than coronets ; " and, with their 
aid, influence for good can be easily propagated. Like a 



192 Hearthstonk Echoes. 

grain of wheat or a mustard seed, plant them in proper soil, 
and the result is often marvelous, Wordsworth considers 
" the best portion of a good man's life his littlei, nameless, 
unremembered acts of kindness and of love." 

Let us not sow so many thistle seed, but in their stead 
place kind words and deeds, if nothing more than speaking a 
gentle, encouraging word to the offcast or taking a smiling 
rosebud to the sick room. 

Some minds are light as thistle down; 
They prefer literature light as thistle down; 
Their education is light as thistle down. 
Result: Their life work is light as thistle down. 



"THE WORLD OWES ME A LIVING." 

" Once upon a time " a handsome youth in this " lajid of 
liberty " started out in life with the gratifying idea that the 
world owed him a living. Usually " a bird is known by his 
feathers ; " so this royal " bird " felt sure he would be read- 
ily recognized by his gay plumage. Therefore he donned 
his best suit, adorned himself with a two-story derby, kid 
gloves, gold-headed cane, bottle of perfume^ a package of 
cigarettes, and the " cutest " little bat-wing tie of " loudest " 
colors; then saw again that his hair was carefidly parted 
in the middle and pasted to his brow, spread his umbrella, 
bade adieu to the rustic scenes of his old farm home, and 
proudly started off to rapidly travel " the royal road up tlie 
hill of science, the flowery path to glory." 



"Thb WorIvD Owks Me; a lyiviNG." 193 

" Heigh-ho, you ten-cemt dude ! " cried his old comrades 
of the cornfield. " You had better come back and ' hoe your 
own row ! ' " 

" I will never ''dig my living out of the ground' any moira 
' The world owes me a living/ and I am starting after it," 
replied the jubilant youth. 

Soon he reached the foot of Success Mountain, which, to 
his surprise, could not be " ascended at a single bound." 
Feeling sure his friends would soon come and carry him 
to the summit on " flowery beds of ease," he selected the 
most pleasant shade in what he regarded as " the garden 
spot of earth," where he could feel " easy as an old shoe " 
and live off of " the fat of tlie land," and, quietly seating 
himself on the " stool of doi-nothing," " snug as a bug in a 
rug," there contentedly waited for the nuts to fall already 
cracked, for tlie corn to come to him " already shelled." 
But " what is everybody's business is nobody's business ; " 
so no one brought the " shelled com." However, he soon 
had congenial company in the refreshing shade ; for " so- 
ciety, like water, seeks its level ; " " birds of a feather will 
flock together;" " miseiry loves company;" and "like 
cures like." They calmly decided to sit still with folded 
hands and " wait for the wagon and all take a ride." There 
was no contention among this crowd of loafers, no "hig I 
and little you; " for it was about " six of one and half a 
dozen of the other." There could be no consistency in the 
" kettle's calling the skillet ' black,' " for the quick reply 
would have been : "Attend to your own business ; " you had 



194 Hkarthstone; Echobs. 

better " practice what you preach j " and " sweep the trash 
from before your own door." 

" It is a long lane that neveo- turns," sighed the youth, 
growing somewhat impatient awaiting the arrival of his 
helpful friends. " Perhaps something has happened to' dew 
tain them, for ' accidents will happen toi the beet of folks.' 
I may become a little hungry before they get here, but 
' eivery bitter has its sweet ; ' the hungrier I becomei, the 
sweeter will seem the morsel, ( ' It's a poor rule that will 
not work both ways.') And do you not think that som© 
folks actually have the audacity to advise me tO' go to work? 
But I just ' laugh in my sleeve,' while their advice ' goes 
in at one ear and out at the other.' I will never work for a 
living if I become ' poor as Job's turkey,' ' poor as a church 
mouse,' ' ugly as a mud fence,' ' common as dirt,,' and even 
if they call me ' old mossback.' They tell me I was dol- 
ing well enough at home and ought tO' have ^ let well enoiugh 
alone; ' that I had a neat little capital and ' large oaks from 
little acorns grow ; ' then have tO' ' cap the climax ' with 
those detestable expressions : 'Just as I expected ! ' ' I told 
you SO' ! ' But — ^well, the fact is, I was tired of being ' det- 
prived of my liberties.' ' When the cat's away, the moiuse 
will play ; ' so, with no parents or teachers near, I can do aa 
I please, and not have them forever ' treading on my toes.' 
I also thus keep out of all the little ' family jars ' and dis- 
cords. I think I am old enough to see after my own, af- 
fairs, anyway. I'm ' no baby.' True, I am by no mieans 
a Jumbo or a Hercules, but ' precious goods are in small 



"Thi? World Owes Me a Living." 195 

packages.' There are so many ' old fogies/ always ex- 
pecting me to be ' neat as a new pin/ yet telling mie not 
to study so much about my good looks.; that I should be 
' useful as well as ornamental ; ' that ' pretty is as pretty 
does ; ' that ' beauty is but skin deep., ugly is to the bone ; ' 
that ' children should be seen, not, heard ; ' and reminding 
me to ' consult my purse before I do, my fancy ; ' that, ' hon~ 
esty is the beet policy ; ' that ' now is my golden opportu- 
nity; ' that ' a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush; ' 
that I should ' strike while the iron is hot/ ' make hay while 
the sun shines ; ' that ' life is not all sunshine/ ' all that 
glitters is not gold ; ' that ' haste makes waste/ and if I 
' marry in haste, I may repent at leisure ; ' that I am 
' judged by the company I keep/ should in all things ' take 
advantage of a doubt,' and ' look before I leap/ for ' the 
path of glory leads but to the grave; ' that ' trouble®, like 
fires, never come singly ; ' and that trying to shun trou- 
bles by wrongdoing is like ' jumping out of the frying pan 
into the fire.' They say I should not want to ' impose on 
good nature' by idly eating the bread others have earnedl 
by the ' sweat of the brow,' for ' one good turn deserves an- 
other ' and ' every tub must stand on its O'Wn bottom.' 
Well, ' circumstances alter cases,' and there are ' ecsceptiona 
to all rules; ' / am an exception. ' It is an ill wind that 
blows nobody any good.' (True, ' the early bird gets the 
worm,' but ' the eagle gets the early bird.') There are 
' many men of many minds, many birds of many kinds.' 
I am a ' gentleman of leisure,' yon see. Thus far my pax- 



196 Hearthstonk Kchoes. 

eats and friends have supplied my wants, and I Sikall 
' praise the bridge that carries me over safe.' 'A friend 
in need is a friend indeed.' Sometimes these friends may 
come in rather late, it is true, as in thie present instance; 
but 'better late than never.' 'Ignorance is blisis; ' theret- 
fore I shall never try to learn how to- ' row my oiwn boiat,' 
to ' paddle my own canoe; ' for ' what is the us© in having 
friends if I do not u^e them ? ' Work, tO' me, would be a 
'bitter pill;' it would be 'death in the pot.' 'Hurry 
makes worry ; ' so I never expect to ' hurry through life ; ' 
and if I make a i&istake, I shall not ' lose' any sleepi over it.' 
There is ' no use in grieving over spilled milk.' ' Better 
ivhistle than whine.' I shall ' never cross the bridge till I 
get to it.' I shall never be ' do'Wn in the mouth ' or ' con- 
vert a molehill into a mountain.' I'll ' never mind the 
weather, so the wind doesn't blow,' and shall ever remember 
that ' the darkest cloud has a silvery lining,' ' the darkest 
hour is just before dawn,' and ' the greater the cross, the 
brighter the crown.' 

" But I will be wp and going; probably I shall meet the 
friends with my living. People call me a ' dead beat,' a 
' bum ; ' they say my ' cake is all dough ; ' that if I do 
not change my course I will soon find myself ' where 
all bad children go;' that these are 'hard times;' and 
that when I depend upon so-called ' friends ' to sustain me 
I am ' leaning on a broken stick ' and ' counting the chick- 
ens before they hatch.' There may be ' more truth than 
poetry ' in this ; but if one friend turns a ' cold shoulder ' 



"Thb WorIvD Owes Me a I^iving." 197 

on mei, ther© are ' otheir turtles in the tank ' and ' as good 
fish in the sea as were ever fished out.' ' Still water runs 
deep ' and ' a still tongue makes a wise head ; ' sO' I shall 
' keep in de middle ob de road/ and not ' kick up a dust ' 
or make ' much ado aho.ut nothing.' As ' a new broom 
sweeps clean^' when the new wears off in one' community, 
I will go to anotJier, where I will be a ' new broo'm ' again. 
' The rolling stone gathers nO' moss; ' hence I will never 
be burdened with surplus property, and ' a short horse is 
soon curried.' Then I will know that ' who' steals my purse 
steals trash/ for he ' can't squeeze blood out of a turnip.' 

" My friend says ' a watclied pot neiver boils/ and urges 
me to quit watching and waiting for the^ world to bring me 
a living, even if I have tO' make my headquarteirs in some- 
body's kitchen, there ' put tbe big pot in the little one/ and 
be ' chief cook and bottle washer.' I see, he wants me to 
' root, hog, or die.' He says ' every dog has his day,' and 
that I have now had mine. He then advises me to ' turn 
over a new leaf ' and go to work for a living, to ' catch 
opportunity by the forelock.' He says ' experience is a 
dear school, but fools will learn in no other.' He tells 
me that ' a man of words, and not of deeds, is like a garden 
full of weeds ; ' that ' an idle brain is the devil's work- 
shop ; ' that I had better be 'Jack at all trades ' tban at 
none; and that by continuing my wanderings from home 
I am ' cutting off my nose to spite my face,' but I'm notr— 
it's to Iceep froirn work. He says I will always, keep my 
' nose to the grindstone ' (but if I have cut off my noee, I 



1 98 Hearthstone; Echoes. 

guesa I wooi't). He tells me I ' don't know whick side of 
my bread is buttea^ed.' (JSTeitber side is butteired since I 
left home, and now even my bread is gone. ) He says ' if 
the shoe fits, wear it.' (I feel like 'most any kind of shoes 
wonld fit me now, if I co'uld get theim without work. ) 

" But — O, hush ! — here he comes again. (' Speak of an 
angel, and we hear the flutter of his. wing; ' speak of the 
other fellow, and ' his imps will appeiax.' He always has 
to have ^ a finger in the pie.') He says ' a hint tO' the wise 
is sufficient.' Then I hope he will bei sufficiently wise to 
take the hint; I've no use for it. I wish he would quit 
* whipping tlie old boy around the stump ' and would ' meas^ 
lire the co'm in his own half bushel.' He is ' feeding on 
wind ' when advising mc' — is ' feeding pigs on diamonds.' 
True, I often promise him I will ' do better neixt time ; ' 
but ' promises are like pie crusti — made tO' be broken.' He 
should remember to ' think twice before he speaks,' for 
' murder will out ' and ' chickens will come ho^me to roost; ' 
therefore his own meanness ' will cro'p out ' somei day. It 
makes a great difference as to ' whose oix is gored,' and ' he 
that lives in a glass house should not throw stones.' He is 
^ no saint ' himself, and (now this is a ' mighty secret ') he 
is always ' heels over head in debt ' — ' just barely can make 
tongue and buckle meet.' He is as full of good advice as 
' an egg is of meat,' but always has ' an ax tO' grind,' al- 
ways has ' an ox in the ditch,' and, in order tO' get it out, 
is willing to ' rob Peter to pay Paul.' If you ' give him an 
inch, he will take an ell ' every time. His brains are 



"The; World Owks Me; a IvIving." 199 

^ scarce as hen's teeth ; ' his tongue, ' limber as a dish rag ; ' 
his character, ' spotted as a leopard.' He is ' ugly as a 
caterpillar,' ' stingy as a miser,' ' sly as, a serpent,' yet ' bold 
as a lion ; ' is ' ill as a hornet,' ' cross as a bear,' ' slom as a 
tortoise,' ' lazy as a sloth,' yet ' busy as a bee ' (in other 
people's matters). He is undoubtedly the 'tackiest' man 
I have ever seen. ' Says I to myself : ' ' O, coinsistency, 
thou art a jewel ! ' 

" But ' least said is sooneist mended ; ' and ' as. we are not 
to be heard for our much speaking nor commended for our 
loud crying,' I would not say a word against him ' for love 
nor money.' I do not believe in retail atioai. I've no time 
for gossip, any^vay, and have my opinion of a busybody, a 
backbiter, or a tattler ; still, I do wish he could ' see Mm- 
self as others see him,' for he is a complete ' snake in the 
grass.' 'A guilty conscience is the worst accuser.' I woib 
der if his conscience doesn't lash him. He says I had as 
well ' hunt a needle in a haystack ' as an honest living with- 
out work. He keeps reminding me that ' procrastination 
is the thief of time,' and that ' time and tide wait for no 
man.' He says I ought not to want to be a loafer and ' eat 
idle bread ' (but I tell you I would enjoy a loaf of any kind 
just now, whether it be idle or busy. Idle bread would 
taste better than none. I would not now object to the con- 
tents of some of the little ' family jars '). He thinks I had 
better quit sowing ' wild oatS;,' lest I become tired of gath- 
ering the harvest (' 0, my ! ' I now feel like I could 
gladly welcome the harvest field, for I am ' hungry as a 



200 Hbarthstonk Echoes. 

wolf.') His advice is to begin making amends- as soon as 
possible; tliat a ' stitcb in time save® nine.' (Well^ I don't 
like to mend ; so- he is entitled to tke ' stitch/ alsoi the 
' nine.') He emphatically quotes ' noi excellence witho'Ut 
labor/ and 'laJjor omnia vincit.' (He is welcome to all 
the excellence that has to be- obtained by labor, even if it 
does make him ' conqueoroir of all things.') He: coimes. with 
that stale ' old chestnut ' that ' there wiR be briers where 
berries grow.' (Let him please go among the briers and 
bring me the berries;. ) ^An ounce of prevention, is worth a 
pound of cure,' says he. (Then he may keep' the preven,- 
tion and kindly give me the cure.) His final caution is: 
' Take care of the dimeSj and the dollars will take care of 
themselves.' I would rather he would take care of his 
dimes and let his dollars take care of me; for I ami sure 
' the world owes me a living,' and I must have it." 

Moral: 1. He: who thinks the world owes him a living 
is an ingratei 

2. Wholesome advice is not always favorably re- 

ceived. 

3. It takes haK of a man's time toi attend tio his 

own business; the other half, to let other 
people's, business alone. 



Examine your well rope. It represents the thread of 
■ur destiny. 



your destiny. 



" Gripps Rigors." 201 

" GRIPPE RIGORS.^ 

'' Foe three long hours this little engine within my bosom 
has been beating as if almost exhausted. Its little ham- 
mers have been falling so lightly on the various parts of my 
body their strokes have been scarcely perceptible, Eor 
more than an hour (2 to 3 A.M.) I have been sitting by 
the fire working faithfully to get warm. I am suffering 
no special pain, but this feeling keeps me very uncomforta- 
ble. Loved ones here are sweetly sleeping, and I think it 
unnecessary to awaken them, for I feel almost sure I will 
soon be as well as usual again. If otherwise, this little 
note will explain the reason." 

[The foregoing was written verbatim and in all earnest- 
ness, though not in the least excitement, during one of those 
peculiar cool stages I call ''' grippe rigors," which are caused 
by repeated attacks of la grippe, and which have often for 
several hours threatened to forever stop the action of my 
heart. The remainder of this little article was written dur- 
ing a similar spell, while again hovering over the fir© be- 
tween midnight and day.] 

These attacks usually come on like a thief in the night, 
and often last for several hours. Striking the center of my 
back, like cold-blooded centipeds, they then crawl in all di- 
rections, making me shiver while they crawl. They do not 
usually cause much pain, but are disagreeable in the ex- 
treme, are like the old man's religion — " worse felt than 
told." They also have a seriously undermining effect on 
the constitution because of their hostile attack on the gen- 
eral nervous system. 



202 H:eARTHSTONE; BCHOES. 

Thero is another kind of cold spells some of us often 
have, which I will call " spiritual (?) rigors." Both kinds 
are sometimes interspersed with spontaneous hot flashes. 
(Beware of extremes!) In both kinds of rigors our use- 
fulness is greatly impairedj if not destroyed. Both show 
bad circulation. The heart fails to do its duty. 

Kemedies: In both instances we need specific treat- 
ment. The patients will not often get well of themselves. 
In both, like the drowning man, we often catch at a straw; 
in both we are greatly imposed upon by frauds; in both 
many patent medicines are taken, with but poor result; in 
both we need more warmth, the system needs " toning up," 
we need something for our blood; in both we are benefited 
by rubbing and by general exercise. La grippe and its 
evil train of attendants furnish a widespread and fertile 
field for the osteopath. In the first ailment we sometimes 
resort to some kind of stimulants, as quinine or " Peiruna ; " 
in the second ailment we should always imbibe freely of the 
great Spirit of truth and life. One of the best remedies for 
the first ailment is a big fire, but it is hard for us to get 
our consent to leave the warm bed; we feel like we will 
freeze before we can reach the fire. So with the " spirit- 
ual (?) rigor." We need the great source of spiritual heat 
— the only infallible remedy — ^but it is so hard to give up 
our bed of worldliness, though its warmth is insufficient to 
keep off the dangerous, if not fatal, cool stages. Ini the 
first we naturally resort, to an unreasonable amount of coiver 
and tuck it closely " around and about us " to break up the 



A Charm String. 203 

rigor, but even tliis usually fails ; in the second we try kard 
to cover our spiritual (?) defects by putting on tliei " cloak 
of righteousness " and drawing it close around us, without 
first thawing the frozen heart. This may hide thei cold, 
hypocritical heart from man, but not: from God. In short, 
in both kinds of rigors we need a purified heart and system, 
with regular circulation. 



A CHARM STRING. 

Iisr the well-rememb€red bygones we girls made charm 
strings. We each selected a small, smooth cord or ribbon, 
and on it we strung little relics of almost every description: — 
buttons, shells, small coins, finger rings, earrings., breast- 
pins — any little present that could reasonably occupy a space 
on that famous cord. This is a neat way to preserve little 
relics of " ye olden times." 

Ey a little effort we can form a beautiful and valuable 
charm string — a string of pearls — ^by daily stringing on the 
cord of memory some bit of useful knowledge, a fact from 
history, or a scientific truth worth knowing. There isi an 
ocean of pearls spread out before us, covering the vast ex- 
panse at our eye's command. — ^yea, more and more, far more 
than this: the broad gates to vast fields of solid lore are 
thrown open wide, and the standing invitation is : " Come 
in, you that hunger and thirst after knowledge, and gather 
whatsoever you will." 

From that magnificent fountain of divine wisdom^, the 



204 Hearthstone Echoes. 

Bible, we may obtain another string of glittering gems. 
Think of the satisfaction we could have in after life from 
this kind of a biblical charm string, for that which is learned 
in youth is not soon forgotten. If throughout life we 
would grasp and retain even one item each day, wei would 
soon have a string of sacred pearls more precious than dia- 
monds and rubies rich and rarei, information important in 
this life and of inestimable value in preparing for the life 
beyond. 

Christ is the great spiritual Charm String holding the sa- 
cred Scriptures together, and the hands of divine love were 
busy four thousand years hanging jewels on this life-giving, 
life-sustaining cord. 

First charm : The wondrous work of creation, which be- 
gan by calling for light and ended in the creation of man. 
If the all-powerful God would not venture to arrange his 
works in the dark, why will vain man attempt to do so, while 
there is so much light at his command ? And why is it 
those with the least spiritual light often try to change, ar- 
range, and rearrange God's works and ways ? Lesson from 
this charm : Obtain light before proceeding, then be care- 
ful how we proceed. 

Second charm: A promised Savior. Again and again 
this sweet charm of promise is repeated, each time present- 
ing new angles and shining more brilliantly. We see a very 
peculiar-looking relic — a sacrifice on Jewish altars. At 
first sight it is a mystery. We investigate it in spiritual 
light, and through it we see in the distance the paschal 



A Charm String. 205 

Lamb for sinneirs slain. Thus one by one the charms are 
added — one prophecy after another, then the glorioras 
scheme of redemption, then promise after promise:, imtil 
the cord is filled, the last charm being : " Blessed are they 
that do his commandments," etc. God's purposes., pTOph- 
ecies, preparations., and promisee beautifully cluster aro'und 
this wondrous cord, making it the most charming of all 
charm strings, one end of which is hung over Eden's gate ; the 
other, heldby the loving John on the lonely Patmos isle. ISTay, 
it extends farther : it reaches back to eternity past, then for- 
ward to the throne of the Eternal^ where it is held secure 
by the hand of undying Lova One end of the cord seems 
far away, as if far back in a dark cavern, and we cannot 
realize its beauty; but as we approach the door, the way 
grows lighter and brighter until it bursts into perfect day 
and the grandeur of each charm is made manifest. This 
cord at Eden's gate looks dim. By standing there we can- 
not properly estimate its charms., but the light grows 
stronger all along the centuries until it reaches tlie cross.. 
Then all is bright ; and, aided by the effulgent beams of the 
cross, we can look back and realize and appreciate the splen- 
dor of each charms then look forward and view tlie glories 
along the Christian's path and those encircling the throne 
of God. 

Break a strand of beads, or a charm string, and the relics 
will be scattered. Thus with the great spiritual Charm 
String. If the central idea — Christ — should be removed, 
all would be lost and man would be completely undone. 



2o6 Hearthstone Echoes. 

But — thanks to our blessed. Fatiier! — this can never be. 
Bigoted man has exhausted his powers trying to snap the 
spinal cord of Christianity, then has clasped his quivering 
hands upon his dying bosom, and, in horrifying tones, ex- 
claimed : " Bemorse, remorse ! " 

God has granted us the' privilege of attaching ourselves 
to this wonderful cord, thus adding glory — not to it^ but to 
ourselves. Again — alas ! — ^we can easily sever ourselves 
therefrom and voluntarily cast our souls into endless ruin; 
but even this will not mar the splendor of a single remain- 
ing charm. Christ's invitation is to all ; his promise is only 
to the faithful. 



DANGER SIGNALS. 

I. THE WARNING CRY. 

"When the mother bird sees the approaching eagle, she 
shrieks to her little ones as a warning to hide amid the 
leafy branches; when the domestic mother fowl sees the 
cunning hawk swooping down, she sends forth a loud note 
of warning, then hastens to gather her brood under her 
wings. Even the swine, usually regarded as so dull and by 
some so contemptible, are wise enough to discern the weather 
signals afld prepare their winter beds as the cold wave ad- 
vances. They seem to keep up with the " signs of the 
times " even better than some of their masters. When the 
early settler heard the panther's scream or the red man's 



Danger SignaivS. 207 

war whoopj he shuddered and iled for life or prepared for 
battle. 

Another danger is approaching, and the warning cry has 
been sounded. A cold, threatening wave is advancing to 
envelop humanity if preparation is not made against it. 
Another war whoop has been sounded ; another shrill shriek 
has been reverberated from continent to continenti, from 
shore to shore. The archenemy has marshaled his forces 
against the people of God^ and Heaven sends forth th,e 
warning cry. Think of the Savior^s touching rebuke: " O 
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and 
stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I 
have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gather- 
eth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not ! Be^ 
hold, your house is left unto you desolate." 

The humble creatures of instinct give heed to danger sig- 
nals. The squirrel forgets not to provide for the future; 
the tiny ant lays up his winter store. Thei threatened birdie 
usually heeds the note of warning and flees to a safety nook, 
but sometimes he seems to think he knows best, and that the 
danger is sO' far away there is no need for haste. Way- 
ward man hears the: danger peals and sometimes hastens to 
the place of refuge, but at other times he indifferently faces 
the advancing foe, and consequently endures many a need- 
less struggle before breaking loose from the poisonous grasp. 
Alas ! too often he is never released therefrom.. 

Bible notes of warning have been sounded all along the 
line from Eden to Gethsemane, thence to the magic vision 



2o8 Hearthstone Echoes. 

on the lonelj isle. Warning' notices kave been given concern- 
ing all the evil connected with this life. Solomon " tacked 
"up " hundreds of these notices, which are not yet weather- 
heaten, hut are in clear type and applicable to all times and 
nations. In onr confused rush through life let us take time 
to consider a few of these. " If sinners entice theci, con- 
sent thou not," " Divers weights, and divers measures, both 
of them are alike abomination to the Lord." " It is better 
to dwell in the corner of the house top, than with a brawling 
woman in a wide house." " The drunkard and the glut- 
ton shall come to poverty; and drowsiness shall clotliei a 
man with rags." 

The prophets, the Savior, and the apostles kept speaking 
tender words of warning, many of which have been kindly 
left on record for our admonition. " Woe to them that 
are at ease in Zion ! " " What I say unto you I say un,to 
all. Watch." " Watch and pray, that ye enter not into 
temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is 
weak." " Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest 
he fall." " See that no man take thy crown." The last 
signal in the great book of warning and promise is against 
adding to or taking from God's word of truth, and this is in 
immediate connection with a precious beatitude to those 
who " do his commandments." 

How important for us to give close heed to our Fath- 
er's warning cry! "He that hathi ears to hear, let him 
hear." 



Dange;r Signai^. 209 

ii. waening lights. 

Do you see that lantern yonder, hanging low over th© 
street? Do yon know its purpose? It is a danger signal 
to warn the belated traveler. In its own peculiar laji^age 
it says : " Do not come this way ; there is danger here ! " 
This lantern is usually suspended over an open ditch. 

There is a great number of Bible lanterns suspended 
along life's highway to show the ditches or places of danger. 
One point of danger is self-conceit, and its Bible lantern is : 
" Every way of a man is right in his own eyes ; but thfi 
Lord pondereth the hearts." " Be not wise in your own 
conceits." Extravagance is another point that needs guard- 
ing :'" Gather up the fragments, . . . that nothing be lost." 
Habitual carelessness : " Lot all things be done decently 
and in order." Procrastination in spiritual duties: "Now 
is the accepted time." Selfishness : " God loveth a cheerful 
giver." Give " not grudgingly," etc. Indifference toward 
parents : " Honor thy father and tJiy mother." Impatience: 
" Let patience have her perfect work." Profanity: " Thou 
shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain." 
" Swear not at all." Laziness or idleness: " If any would 
not work, neither should he eat." " Go to the ant, thou 
sluggard: consider her ways, and be wise." Intemperance: 
" Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging ; and whosoever 
is deceived thereby is not wise." The drunkard shall not 
" inherit the kingdom of God." (1 Cor. 6: 9, 10.) " Woe 
unto him that giveth his neighbor drink! " Falsehood: 



2IO Hkarthstone) Echoes. 

"A false witness shall perish." " Ye are of your father the 
devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do," etc. 

Some of these are such dangerous ditches and sO' many 
persons persist in traveling that way, several lanterns are 
suspended along them ; so if the wayfaring man falls there- 
in, it will be alone through his own carelessness. 

Many other danger pits are clearly pointed out, such as 
oppressing the poor, theft, cheating, oovetousness, malice, 
hatred, hypocrisy, extortion, idolatry. At least one Bible 
lantern is suspended at each danger point. When in dan- 
ger or doubt, look for a light. If there, beware ! 

There are many " blind ditches " along life's road, and 
some of them are not securely covered. Beware of them! 
Step cautiously! Some are where the road appears firm- 
est and most attractive. Though the beautiful city, Ve- 
nice, is " throned on her hundred isles " and her streets 
are vast water mirrors, reflecting in grandeur the work 
of skilled architects, still she possesses her Bridge of 
Sighs. A person may think he is walking in all safety and 
never suspect any danger, until suddenly the trapdoor gives 
way beneath his feet and he sinks down to meet his f M,rf ul 
doom. Thus there are trapdoors placed by man's great 
enemy all along life's highway to engulf the unsuspecting 
traveler in the pit of destruction, and the warning light 
says : " Be not deceived." 

God has suspended these danger signals low enough fear 
us by their light to discern the flaws in the bridges and to 
keep out of the quicksands of deceit. If closely observed. 



Dange;r Signai^. 211 

they will be a sure guide for the young and inexperienced 
who have not traveled life's road long enough to know where 
the dangers lie. These warning lights for children should 
be wisely managed at homei, on tlie streets, in school, in Sun- 
day school, in church — everywhere. Do not flash your light 
at them occasionally, like a blinding electric flash, then let 
it go out, leaving Egyptian darkness. Such lights are 
blinding, deceiving, treacherous. Beware of them, lest the 
children become disgusted and prefer darkness. Tke lan- 
tern of true Christianity emits a clear, steady light. 

III. THE YELLOW FLAG. 

We read of its being in cities remote — in that " far-away 
fairyland across the Atlantic." Later the newspapers say 
it has crossed the briny blue and has reached the coast citi^ 
of our home country. It comes nearer, still nearer. They 
tell us it is in our little town. We house ourselves through 
fear. We see it waving at the gates of sO'Uie of our good 
neighbors. We shudder and are sad. We know not the 
day nor the hour when it will be placed at our own door. 
What does it indicate ? Deadly disease. What does it say ? 
"Stay aivay; beivarej use every precaution!" (Such was 
once really our experience, when smallpox visited our 
town.) 

There are many " yellow flags " in our physical environ- 
ments. One is placed at every danger station; and as it 
quivers in the balmy breezeSj we read on it the oft-verified 
truth : " Violate a law of nature, and you shall suffer the 



212 He^arthstone) Echoes. 

penalty," Along tJie intellectual and moral highways there 
are bypaths leading off to idle resorts, to places abounding 
in low classes of literature and evil associationSj where the 
mind will be starved by feeding on froth and tlie character 
will be degraded by wicked conduct. Where each bypath 
leaves the path of rectitude' there is a tollgatci, and on it is 
this glittering, dazzling motto: "Come through,; we have a 
feast in store for you, and gladly hid you welcome! " Just 
above hangs that horrid yellow flag, on which is written 
in black letters : " Eemember, you must always 'pay the 
toll ! " Many, attracted by the beautiful motto or invitation 
in the gilded frame, pass through the gate without observ- 
ing the dingy yellow flag until too late; others arei warned 
of it, but go heedlessly on, " The strait and narrow way " 
to the holy city is clearly pointed out, and danger signals 
along the roadside warn us not to overlook the stepstones. 

Yes, the Book of Life hangs out many yellow flags denot- 
ing sin. Do we see them ? Are we trying hard to shun the 
deadly contagion they indicate ? Are we prone to consider 
them as relating not to ourselves, but to some foreign land 
or nation, and thus neglect to notice how rapidly they are 
approaching us ? Do we ever let it beco^me necessary to 
place the yellow flag at the door of our own hearts ? Do 
we permit the deadly contagion (sin) to enter therei and 
feast upon our souls ? 

In some cities the yellow flags become so common many 
persons walk imder them heedlessly, not discerning nor 
considering their import. In like manner many disre- 



Danger Signai^s. 213 

gard the Bible's warnings. Tkey are too quick to con- 
sider themselves " immunes " against sin. Where the Bible 
flag savs, " Be not deceived," they step right O'ut into the 
quicksands of deception; where the warning is, "Abstain 
from all appearance of evil," they walk into the sa- 
loon door ; where it says, " Be sure your sin will find you 
out," they try to hide themselves in the hypocrite's cloak 
and call it " righteousness ; " where it says, " Eorsake not the 
assembling," etc., they stay at home or go visiting; where 
it admonishes, "Watch," they close their eyes; where it 
says, " 'Now is the accepted time," they quickly respond : 
" Wait until to-morrow." 

We should carefully observe all these danger signals and 
ward off the disease (sin), then at the end of the heavenly 
highway we will see the beautiful floating, fluttering, snow- 
white flag of peace and on it in letters of purest gold, " Who- 
soever mil may come; " and, " Blessed are they that do his 
commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, 
and may enter in through the gates into the <»ty." 

IV. THE STORM HOrSE. 

" The sky is overcast, and musters muttering thunder 
In clouds that seem approaching fast, and show 
In forked flashes a commanding tempest." 

Of some storms fatal tO' parts of our native land people 
have been notified while the winds were still sporting with 
the billows of the Caribbean Sea. What a wonderful power 
this ! "What a blessing to have such warning, given by the 



214 Hearthstones Echoes. 

weather signal announciiig the approacliing starmi! It 
kindly warns the people to prepare their property against 
danger as best they can, then fleei to a plaxje of refuge. IsTev- 
ertheless, many are heedless, and will not try tO' protect 
themselves, even though a strong, reliable storm house may 
be at their own door. 

An objector argues thus: "Many a man has survived 
a storm without being cramped up in a storm house, 
and so can I; at least I am willing to risk my chances. I 
do not enjoy being kept so close; do^ not want to be deprived 
of my liberties ; want to be a free man." The cloud arises ; 
the wind sweeps the land ; " the thunder, winged with red 
lightning and impetuous rage/' deepens its groaning, and, 
with peal after peal, convulses the elements. The presump- 
tuous, seK-willed man hears the tempest growl and sees it 
" wrapping ether in a blaze." He sees the giant oak hum- 
bly yielding to the tempest's breath and realizes he himself 
is in danger. Then he hastens to the storm house and en- 
ters, to the great delight of those within who have long 
realized his danger and have been pleading with him and 
beckoning to him to come. He feels sweet relief, realizing 
he is beyond the tornado's reach, even while the storm cloud 
is still lurid with lightning and the elements still groaning 
as if beneath a crushing weight. He hears the roaring ele- 
ments, the crashing of timbers and houses, and the shrieks 
of his neighbors, but knows he could not be of any advantage 
to them whatever by coming out and would be running great 
risk himself. He feels confident he is safe while within, 



Danger Signals. 215 

but does not like certain individuals who are in tke storm 
house, and soon becomes tired of the confinement,. He de- 
cides he is willing to "risk his chances" outsideij wheire 
he can have more room and more liberties, and. comes out, 
facing the storm — voluntarily runs into the merciless jaws 
of death. 

Are you astonished at this man's actions ? He thus rep- 
resents a large portion of our race. There is a magnificent 
" storm house " already prepared by the great Architect, 
who makes no mistakes. It has abundant room for all man- 
kind, and in it man can obtain all that is necessary for true 
enjoyment. It is proof against the ravaging cyclone and 
the surging billows of life's deceptive sea. The danger sig- 
nal warns all to flee to this place of safety, and lovingly 

says: 

" When the shelt'ring Rock is so near by, 
O, why will you die? " 

Many heed the warning ery, and soon find succor in the 
church of God's people, the great spiritual storm house, 
where they remain unshaken until life's tempest ceases to 
rage. They wonder why they remained outside even so 
long as they did. Others are too self-willed, skeptical, or 
indifferent to enter ; others enter, but leave too soon. They 
do not " enjoy the confinement," and are extremely con- 
scientious as to the customs of the church ; so they begin to 
" pick flaws," and soon decide they cannot " fellowship " 
some of the " brethren." Without wisely considering how 
much worse it is outside, they rashly conclude to risk it, 



2i6 Hkarthston:^ Kchous. 

and come out, witliout the slightest assurance of protection. 
Thus they are without promise, without hope, and without 
God. 

Although the church of God is the grand spiritual storm 
house — " the shrine of refuge from life's stormy throng " — 
it will avail us nothing unless we enter the same and therein 
remain faithful. 

V. THE SINKING SHIP. 

Good-by, old ship ! You are taking from our shore many 
of our friends. See them waving and casting back at us 
their love glances ! It is a pleasure ship, and carries a 
vast excursion. It is considered 

" Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel 
That shall laugh at all disaster, 
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle." 

It has just launched out on the level brine, and leaves the 

shore triumphantly. Bright sunbeams are painting ita 

shadow on the Pacific waters. On and on, day after day, 

night after night, it softly glides over the bosom blue. 

" She walks the waters like a thing of life. 
And seems to dare the elements to strife." 

All on board feel safe, and shouts of merriment ring forth, 
only to be lost on the watery world ; not a cliff, not a stone, 
not a mountain or hillock to echo the sound ; only the low 
murmuring of the deep waters to respond to the gleeful sail- 
ors, while the heavens in majesty look dovm upon them 
with smiles from myriads of eyes — tranquil, serene, glo- 
rious. 



Dangkr Signai^s. 217 

But a breeze from the westward brings into view a pecul- 
iarly-shaped cloud, which soon begins to attract tbe atten- 
tion of the crew. The wind is rising higher and higher; 
the " whitecaps "' glistening in the sunbeams, grow into 
mountain waves ; the cloud advances rapidly ; the sun hides 
his face in gloom ; the affrighted sailors turn pale with awe ; 
tbe billows throw high their silvery spray and whiten the 
deck with foam, while they lash the tottering, reeling, al- 
most drowning vessel. Amid the piteous pleadings of friends 
and captain, some of the frantic sailors leap overboard, 
with heartrending shrieks, "as if eager to anticipate their 
graves," and are soon devoured by hungry ravagers await- 
ing prey. The brave captain tries in vain to quell the fears 
of all on board, confidently assuring thexn he will land them 
safe in the harbor if they will obey his orders ; and the faith- 
ful pilot stands firm at duty's post, having told them re- 
peatedly the cloud was passing around. 

The thunder's peal becomes more distant, the electric flash 
is not so constant, the winds fold their wings in meek sub- 
mission, the eixcited billows drop to sleep. The birdlike 
vessel trembles wearily, as from excitement and fear; per- 
spiration trickles down her sides ; the sun unveils, his glow- 
ing features to smile t.he mists away ; while the rainbow of 
victory arches the space between the vessel and the receding 
cloud. The pale-faced mariners take on new life; and those 
who have remained on board, standing firm by the captain's 
orders, are soon landed in a quiet harbor, with joy and 
gratitude unspeakable. 



2i8 Hearthston:^ Echoes. 

Thus the old Ship of Zion passes through many storm 
clouds, is '' rocked upon, the raging billows," and is often 
threatened with destruction ; but the faithful Pilot remains 
unswerving. Christ Jesus, the Captain, tenderly speaks 
good cheer, assuring us that if we will remain on board, 
following his directions, we will be securely anchored in the 
haven of peace. Regardless of the loving entreaties of Cap- 
tain and friends, many shrink from approaching danger and 
leap overboard, and are sure to find awaiting them those 
who are ready to drag them intO' the jaws of a fearful and 
eternal death. 

Another ship is sailing on life's turbulent sea, under the 
management of another captain and crew, and carrying a 
different company of travelers. It is the Sliip of Destruc- 
tion. It is not seaworthy; the captain (Satan) is not reli- 
able ; the pilot is deceitful ; the crew is unstable as the wind. 
An intelligent man remains thereon to be with particular 
friends who will not leave with him, and who not only rid- 
icule the idea of his leaving, but also' offer him inducements 
to stay. Though fully aware of the treacherous condition, 
he heeds their entreaties, agreeing that " the cloud is in the 
distance; there is time enough yet." He sees the danger 
signal and has plenty of time to go to the stronger vessel, 
which " throws out a life line " to rescue each of his crowd. 
The noble crew and faithful Captain of the stronger vessel 
keep urging him to " Come over ! " pointing toward the 
danger signal and to the advancing cloud, and sending forth 
loud notes of warning. '" There is time enough yet. Do 



Th:^ Miragk. 219 

not be uneasy about me. I am coming after a while, but 
am not quite ready to leave my old chums. Moreover, there 
is a man on your ship I cannot, fellowship. I will not go 
aboard while he is there." Thus he does not give up his 
revelry " nor heed the storm that howls along the sky," 
but only glances occasionally at the approaching storm cloud. 
Soon he begins tO' hear the elements sadly gTOianing under 
thci fearful battle, then feels the vessel quivering, rocking, 
reeling ; hears the crashing of its weak timbers and knows it 
is sinking into^ endless ruin. Then he sends forth his pit- 
eous shrieks to the Captain of the safety ship : " Lord, save, 
or we perish ! " But his tottering vessel has been wafted 
too far away ; it is sinking ; he is gone. " Tooi latei, too 
late!" 

On which vessel are you sailing, kind friend, kind reader ? 



THE MffiAGE. 

Far away in desert lands, and even in the western por- 
tion of our own proud galaxy of States, we have pictures 
striking and grand. The traveler is gazing intently on the 
desert waste, when suddenly appears a beautiful landscape. 
How delicate the touchings and tracings of the magic pen- 
cil, as if some angelic artist had been summoned to please 
the eye of man ! Eocky cliffs and shady glens ; large trees 
gnarled and twisted by the tempest's breath; an old picket 
fence, some panels broken down, others leaning; a rustic 
cabin on the hillside — all these things, and many more, over- 



220 Hbarthstone Kchoe;s. 

look a crystal lake on which a lone swan is floating, which 
in an instant is accompanied by a score of its mates. The 
next moment they dive beneath the crystal ripples. The 
fence, house, trees, hills — all, all tumble headlong into that 
sea of glass and disappear, and all is desert waste again. In 
a short time another scene appears before him, just as strik- 
ing, but entirely different This is illusion — a magnificent 
trick played on the retina of the human eye by reflection 
and refraction, the theory of which is more e'asily talked 
about than explained. 

Much of life's joy and heartache, its sunshine and shadow, 
is merely a suspended mirage — an illusion. Many of Oiur 
plans — our air castles and our rosiest hopeS' — are only a 
play upon the imagination ; and, before we are especting it, 
they tumble over into a mystic sea, a lake of teiars. How- 
ever, much in life is real, and we should cautiously draw 
the line of distinction. 

We see lakes and oceans on whose blue bosoms we watch 
the ships sailing smoothly a while, then plunging madly 
over the rolling waves ; wo see homes happy a little while, 
then transformed into demon hovels. 

On life's vast, outstretched prairie or desert, may be seen 
places of resort where man indulges in all kinds of narcot- 
ics, intoxicants, vile language, and many other evils. He 
usually resorts thither long after the sun bids him good night 
and " the curtains of night are pinned back by a star." 
" Full glasses are carried to tlie table, empty O'ues are car- 
ried back" (as suggested by Pomeroy). Time is squan- 



Thb Mirage. 221 

dered, cards are shuffled, money is wagered. The foul- 
scented room becomes smoky ; the lamp, be^ns to blush at the 
red eyes, the dull brains, and the coarsei stories told. The 
clock points its busy finger to twelve ; but his brain is too 
cloudy, his eye too dull, to see it. Just over yonder in that 
little hut is a heartbroken woman, worn and weary with her 
waiting. ISTight after night she has been thus deprived of 
rest, until that once beautiful face is pallid with care. " The 
clock in the steeple strikes one.'' " Has papa tum? " asks 
the baby girl, arousing fram childish slumber. " 'No, lit- 
tle pet; lie still and go to sleep," replies the mother, forc- 
ing a cheerful tone. The little innocent returns to slumbOT 
land, leaving " mamma " again watching and weeping alone. 
Two o'clock, three o'clock ! Hush ! There are footsteps on 
the walkj but listen to the heart throbs in that woman's 
bosom! Those footsteps are not steiady. She slyly peeps 
through the broken window blinds ; sees his reeJing, tottering 
form ; hears his bitter oaths as he stumbles over tlie broken- 
down gate. He " bangs " against the barred door, which 
she must open at his ruthless bidding. He staggers into 
the room, cursing her for the very darkness he has caused 
by not providing material for light and by driving every 
spark of radiance from her once bright soul. The rest of 
the scene we leave to your imagination. Will some friendly 
" so-called ' science' ' " happily conie to our relief and say 
this is only an illusion, not a reality ? 

Yonder is a splendid home, with charming environments. 
The triplet sisters — Love, Humility, and Sunshine — dwell 



222 Hejarthston:^ Echoes. 

there, and Happiness there makes her abode. In the shady 
lawn we see some rustic seatSj on which two lovers sit and 
chat and quietly plan for the future. They are surrounded 
by grass plots and fragrant flowers and cheered by the aerial 
choir. We count two more years as they are marked on 
the great calendar; we see these rustic seats transformed 
into a little damp, cold grave; we behold these same two 
lovers, now mourners bowing over the lowly mound. A 
little later we see the silken lace and fine embroidery of that 
lovely trousseau transformed into a shroud or burial robe. 
The same nimble fingers that two years ago played the wed- 
ding m-arch for these two lovers now softly accompany the 
voices that sweetly and touchingly sing " Some Sweet Day " 
and " Death is Only a Dream ; " the same hands that so 
lovingly arranged the bridal arch now sadly fasten down the 
coflSn lid; those who acted as ushers at the hymeneal altar 
now tenderly bear the wife's beautiful casket to the hearse; 
the same livery outfits that with quickened step brought the 
bridal party toi the church now slowly and solemnly take 
them tx> the " silent city " — " funeral marches to the grave." 
There is onlj one lover now^ and he is a sad mourner over 
two little mounds. Is this illusion, or is it reality ? 

We see another family circle broken, a front room whose 
stillness is heavy and terrible with death. Listen ! A si- 
lent step', careful breathing, " low whisper as the sheet is 
turned back to show the once warm lips now cold and blue 
in death" (Pomeroy). The crowd of mourners, the slow 
procession to the grave, the hollow rattle upoiQ the co'ffin — 



The; Mirage. 223 

all come before us in detail like a panorama. We hear the 
new-made widow's sobs and the children piteously calling: 
" Father ! O, father ! " But there are some who say this 
is mere illusion. If so, life is an illusion; death, heaven, 
and torment are illusions. Such ideas are certainly illu- 
sions, and those who cherish them are complicated illusions 
of the queerest kind. Trucj, " many a ghost has proved 
to be a shadow ; many a mountain, but a lake of fog." Im- 
agination has much to do with our " ups and downs " in this 
life, and our minds can be controlled somewhat by our wills ; 
but the world is deceived by many false notions and false 
theories, the chief est of which is infidelity, with aU its kin- 
dred troupe. Doubtless there are millions of ideas yet to 
be born; but certainly none of them will be more incon- 
sistent, more contradictory, more ridiculous, than some of 
these, and no doubt many of them will be the offspring of 
these. 

What do such ideas promise a man that is elevating to 
him or in any way beneficial ? What promise of heaven is 
vouchsafed thereby ? They may promise much, but it is like 
promising a child an apple when you cannot give even a seed. 
They build nothing; they tear down everything. " Shake 
a rattle box before purchasing." The child will buy it 
because of its gay stripes, when probably it does not con- 
tain enough shot, gi'avel, dry peas, or common sense to make 
a respectable " rattle." So with many man-made theories. 
Some (and, strange tO' say, some with more than ordinary 
intelligence) will grasp them for their " gay stripes " and 



224 Hearthstone; Echoe;s. 

because tkey are " soanetihing new." Each, will have be^ 
lievers and followers, no matter how inconsistent or contra- 
dictory its theory, no matter how small the goal to whick it 
aspires. "We should " shake " it and see if it contains enough 
of God's truth to " rattle." If not, we should bury it deep 
in the darkest oblivion and plant the tree of faith, hope, and 
love on its grave. Erelong th.e Christian graces will spring 
up thereon, will bud and blossom and yield rich fruit a 
hundredfold. Let the tomahawk and the battle-ax of the 
infidel, with which he has soi long been fighting the oauise 
of our Eedeemer, be buried with him. Death will put an 
end to- his claims by and by; and when he realizes he is 
rushing through its portals, doubtless he will exclaimi, as a 
renowned infidel of the past is said to have exclaimed, with 
remorse: "O God, if there be a God_, have mercy on my 
soul, if I have a soul ! " 'No' wonder Paul admonished : 
"Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he 
fall." 

Time is too precious to. waste in investigating th.ese ab- 
surdities which lead the mind from God and from a love for 
his cause. W© should surmount thesei erroneoius theories, 
walk over them, step on a higher plane far above the mirage 
of the prairie or the desert waste, and from which we can 
look across the mystic beyond tO' the culmination of God's 
love. 



The youth's favorite toy : His father's pocketbook. 



" Watch— Be; Ready ! " 225 

''WATCH— BE READY r' 

His countenance was pleasing and familiar; his moive- 
ments, graceful; his appeiarance, niiajestic. It seeimed 
that she recognized his face, so calm, yet so earnest; but 
her eyes soon rested on that beautiful banner suspended 
above his uplifted hands. 

O, that wonderful " banner " (if such we may call it) ! 
How it enraptured her gaze ! It enchanted her very soul. 
!N'ever had she seen anything half so beautiful. The most 
gifted tongue or pen can never find language to describe it. 
She gazed with delight, she wondered, she admired. How 
could anything be sO' lovely ? It was transparent, though 
composed of all the brightest and most attractive colors, 
like some fantastically-arranged stained-glass window; like 
the most elegant and marvelous construction in mosaic in- 
terspersed with beautiful flowers and with bright, glitter- 
ing, blinking, twinkling stars ; like a Aagnificent rainbow 
all in a quiver, extending from east tO' west athwart the 
globe; like the sublime display of lights she had witnessed 
at the Tennessee Centennial ; like the finest wires of spun 
glass, all colors, woven, into the most intricate gauze and 
hanging in midair like some beautiful suspended mirage. 
The background was darker, thus displaying to better ad- 
vantage the brilliant colors and those stars and flowers of 
indescribable beauty. She stood enchanted ; she gazed with 
ecstasy. It tarried long before her enraptured vision, 
though she constantly feared it would depart. 

But this was not all. It presented in large, distinct let- 



226 Hisarthstone; Echoes. 

ters of exquisite beauty the expressive and impressive in- 
scription : " Watck — Be Eeady ! " 

It was a dear old lady who witnessed this exquisite dis- 
play. She read the striking words, then exclaimed : " O, 
the advent, the advent ! " The sight produced peculiar 
feelings of mingled joy and grief. She thought it signified 
the speedy approach of a great Overseer, who, for some 
cause, would require exactness in the arrangement of each 
home. Foremost in her mind was the thought that the 
house must be cleaned up and everything put in perfect or- 
der. It must be " swept and garnished " was the idea so 
forcibly impressed on her mind. She felt sure much, 
very much, had to be done in order that all might " be 
ready." She thought the language indicated there was 
something each could do, and at least a little time should 
be granted; that the space between words denoted time in 
which to prepare. She also realized that this warning was 
for the whole world _, not for a special few. Having no par^ 
ticular preparation to make for herself, her affairs being al- 
ready in order, she went to work in earnest trying to assist 
others. She resumed the spirit, strength, and activity of her 
youth, and rushed first into a room occupied by some young 
ladies. Three times she loudly called the inmates by name, 
but they were in such commotion they gave no heed what- 
ever. They were all talking excitedly. At one mo'iaeiat 
they were clapping their hands as if in delight; at the next 
moment, wringing them as if in agony. In no way could 
she attract their attention in the least. 'No wonder. Tlieir 



* ' Watch —Be Ready ! " 227 

clothes, and even their beds, were tumbled in heaps over 
the floor; "cyclone footprints" were on the dresser and man- 
tel ; dnst in mournful abundance had settled on everything. 
'No wonder the girls were excited,, for that room must be 
" swept and garnished," and they must " watch — ^be ready." 
This loving old " grandma " was devoted to these heed- 
less girls, and wanted to help them make their room tidy; 
but as every effort to attract their attention was in vain 
and she knew there was no time to lose^, she left theon. and 
hastened to the boys' room. " 0, boys ! Your room, your 
room ! It mu^i be ' swept and garnished ! ' " she cried. 
" You must be ready ! " But — lo ! — the boys were gone, 
could no'where be found. Dear grandmother was shocked 
at the terrible confusion that here met her gaze, and was 
overwhelmed with anxiety; for she loved the boys much,, 
and would have freely given the remnant of her life to have 
had them " ready," She worked faithfully trying to get 
things better arranged. There was such a quantity of dirt 
and trash and useless " plunder " it would never do to tos» 
it in the yard; yet it must be removed from the room, for 
she was still haunted by " must be swept and garnished." 
Being pressed for time, she decided she must raise part 
of the floor and let som© of the rubbish fall through in order 
to make respectable space for the remainder. She grew 
still younger and stronger in her efforts, and worked with 
the life, spirit, and ease of a youth instead of a person cm 
the threshold of ninety. At last she was overcome. Her 
strength failed before the work was completed. Just as 



228 Hearthstone) Echoes. 

she was giving down from exhaustion and excitement she 
clapped her tender hands so hard it aroused her from her 
ecxciting dream. 

For several weeks she would often tell this dream with 
deep emotion — not that she is superstitious^ believing erro- 
neously in signs and dreams, but because it appeared so 
very much like reality, bore such vivid semblance to actual 
life. 

Application : A beautiful banner is ever before us, bear- 
ing the pathetic warning: "Watch — Be Ready!" It is 
painted on every autumn leaf; the waving grass bespeaks 
its motto; it is suspended from every cloud and reflected 
from every billow. The diamond dewdrop bears this m;es- 
sage : " Like me, you will soon pass away ; theief ore 
' watch^ — ^be ready ! ' " The ever-changing seasons remind 
us of this, and we see the same depicted on the faces of our 
loved ones departing. Do we carefully observe the inscrip- 
tion ? Do we heed its message ? 

" There's a great day coming by and by, when the saint 
and the sinner shall-be parted right and left " — a great day 
of assortment^ when the rubbish rnust^ be cleared away. 
Preparation should be made. But little is needed by some ; 
by others, much. " Watch — ^be ready ! " or there will be 
much confusion and anguish when the call is given — doubt- 
less much more than is expected. Many in that " great 
day " would gladly raise the " floor " and hide the rub- 
bish of their lives ; indeed, many will say to the rocks, hills, 
and mountains : " Pall on us and hide us from the great, 



Secret Fire;. 229 

impartial Judge ! " Many would like to flee from him^ 
be absent wlien he comes, and thus escape judgment by not 
being present at roll call. Each of us should take warn- 
ing and keep his house " swept and garnished." This liv- 
ing, moving, breathing house^ — the temporal abode of the 
soul — should be freed from the rubbish of evil habits and 
wicked works and garnished with pure thoughts and right- 
eous living. We should ever " wateh — ^be ready." 



SECRET FIRE. 

One of our grates appeared somewhat greedy and took 
upon itself too large a supply of coal — more than it could 
care for ; so part of it rolled off on the floor. But was that 
all ? 'No; the coal had influenca It was alive and active, 
and at once began to make a, strong impress on the floor, 
which gently, but steadily, yielded to its power. Burning 
through the floor and the latliing just below, it was checked 
by the plastering. A few buckets of water were dashed 
on, and we thought the good work was done — the fire extin- 
guished; but, placing my ear to the floor, I heard a low, 
distant roaring. Like an undermining fiend, the sly flame, 
unable to affect the plastering, had changed its course 
and tried another plan — had used the floor, joists, and plas- 
tering as a flue; and, thus pent up^ it had made its way 
nine feet to the wall. Had not its sly mischief been dis- 
covered and arrested, within five minutes the residence of 
E. P. Meeks would have been in flamee. Stroke after 



230 Hearthstonb Echoes. 

stroke, with great rapidity, the heavy ax was applied hy 
•wift and willing hands until the seiat of mischief was. dis- 
coyered and ike trouble overcomei. Thanks to the dear lit- 
tle telephone girl and to all the other willing helpers. 

We frequently act like that grate. We receive and try 
to appropriate to ourselves more of this world's bounties 
than we need or deserve, more than is really best for us. 
An overabundance is often worse than scarcity. The motto 
of fire and water seems to be : " Use me;, but do not abuse 
me." They are excellent servants, but tyrannical masters. 

This fire began in the upper story. Sin does not always 
first tempt the lowest principles of our character, but fre- 
quently attacks our highest and noblest characteristics and 
brings us down, down, down. When the tempter finds he 
cannot overco^me one point in our nature, he leaves that, 
like the fire left the plastering, and pursues some other 
course. Sin, like a smoldering fire, often attacks us when 
and where we are least expecting. Its ravages are steady, 
and sometimes rapid, until arrested by an antidote. It 
works on the sly. Often we think the mischief small and 
perhaps overcome; but the deceiver is creeping along slyly, 
and is steadily undermining our constitutions, dispositions, 
moral and spiritual characters. As the first bucket of water 
put out all apparent fire, so we may often easily cover all 
the apparent evil sin has wrought without putting a stop 
to its secret ravages. We must strike with the ax of truth 
until we reach the seat of mischief — the heart — and there 
apply the never-failing antidote. 



Secret Fire. 231 

^' Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth ! " 
As Dante says: " From a little spark may burst a mighty 
flame." A large flame came near being kindled from that 
small piece of coal. Only a little harsh word, but it pierces 
tender hearts like a poisoned arrow and burns like secret 
fire; only a loving word, but the kindly spark is kindled 
in the soul of a wayward youth, causing him to stop his 
downward course and turn his steps heavenward. Each 
individual has influence over some one, and frequently that 
influence is spreading when he is not aware. It may be a 
nettle seed which will yield a large crop of piercing thorns, 
or it may be the sweet honeysuckle to cheer the sick roo'm 
with its beauty and fragranca 

The dozen buckets of water thrown on the fire greatly 
damaged the plastering, paper, carpet, etc., in the room 
below. Rebuke for sin must sometimes be so severe as to 
greatly mortify the receiver and others. In our great anx- 
iety to save our house, much more water was used than was 
absolutely necessary, because we could not tell exactly where 
to pour it and how much. So in our intense zeal in trying 
to save a person's soul froim torturing flames we may use 
more persuasion and reasoning than necessary, for often 
it is hard to combine zeal and discretion in proper propor- 
tion. But as no one is offended at the overplus of water, 
so the sin-sick soul should never becoim© offended or dis- 
gusted at the healing balm, though sometimes administered 
in unpleasantly large quantities. 

Half of the floor in one room had to be torn up, removed. 



232 He;arthstone Kchoks. 

and anotlier floor laid in its stead. In the room below, the 
stove, piano, and other heavy articles were hastily moved 
out of danger, and some little ornamental furnishin|^s were 
utterly ruined by the water. By spiritual investigation 
sometimes fully half of what is popularly regarded as sound 
doctrine — spiritual floor or foundation — is proved either 
to be spurious or to contain some hidden element of de- 
struction. In such eases it must either be torn up and re- 
placed by something that bears divine sanction or the de- 
structive element must be eradicated by the penetrating 
beams of Heaven's truth. Many times, also, we may be 
found in dangerous places, and should move or be moved 
in order to escape the impending doom, although, like re- 
moving the stove or the piano, it requires strength and 
presence of mind to do the work right At the same time 
we are compelled to sacrifice many of our preconceived 
ideas, opinions, and preferences (like those small, inferior 
decorations) in order to give our attention to weightier mat- 
ters. 

We continued our regnlar work, ignorant of the secret 
ruin going on in our own house, until almost too late. Often- 
times persons are very intent at their daily affairs, igno- 
rant or regardless of the secret ruin being wrought by sin 
in their own households among their own children and other 
loved ones. We did not know so well how to appreciate 
our home until we thought it was about to be immediately 
swept from us. Thus it is with every other blessing of life. 

After the fire seemed extinguished, the low, nicumful 



Secret Fire. 233 

roaring and crackling indicated danger still. Often in life 
when all seems well witli us, if we will place our ear to the 
warning trumpet of God's truth, avb shall hear the plaintive 
peals telling us of lurking danger. 

In a few moments after our telephone message reached 
the college and town our house and yard vrere well filled — 
students, teachers, merchants, workmen ; young men, old 
men — all willing and anxious to lesod a helping haud. 
Wheu we see a soul in as imminent danger as was our house, 
do we show as great anxiety about it and try as haxd to 
rescue it from the threatening lake of flames ? A soiul is 
of far more value than many houseSj and we should man- 
ifest much more anxiety to save it. 

During our little fire excitement it never once entered 
my mind that our house and its furnishings were insured 
against fire ; and I thought if the house burned, all would be 
lost. For twenty-one years we had been carrying heavy in- 
surance, which appeared to be a needless expense, as we had 
never demanded a penny from the company during that 
time; but since they have so nobly come to our relief and 
willingly repaired the damage, we feel indeed grateful 
to them and thankful we had placed our home in their 
care. There is a great Insurance Company we would like 
to recommend to all — one that never " breaks " or fails to 
comply with its contracts. The firm consists of rather. 
Son, and Holy Spirit. The expenditure is small; the 
terms, reasonable; and the reward, not tworthirds of the 
value of property lost, but the entire amount multiplied 



234 Hb;arthstone Echoejs. 

by infinity. We all have access to the great insurance Guide, 
and can easily ascertain and comprehend the terms and 
pay the fee. When Death touches the objects of our affec- 
tion : when with iron grasp he seizes even those we feel sure 
are prepared for the realms of bliss, we, for the time, 
seem to actually forget or lose sight of the insurance. The 
future then looks, dismal, the sable curtain has fallen and 
excluded the light^ and we feel like all is lost, until re^ 
minded of the great Insurance Company that will stand 
firm by those who never fail tO' keep their dues thoroughly 
paid up. Had we permitted our insurance to lapse, even 
the very day before the fire, the company would have beeai 
exempt from assisting us. Let us beware and not leave 
off our contract with the company in heaven, even one day, 
one hour, lest during that unguarded time Death should 
call and find us unprepared. We may carry heavy insur- 
ance on our homes a lifetime and never realize any benefit 
therefrom, but to every rational being there is certain to 
com© a time when he will need the' protection of heaven's 
reliable firm, without which all will be eternally lost 

Our houses are in constant danger of fire; our physical 
constitutions are in danger of being undermined by stealthy 
disease; our spiritual characters are in imminent danger 
of being demoralized by the crafty workmen of our' dread- 
ful adversary. Therefore, " What I say unto you I say 
unto allj Watch." 

Different tilings by which our house was saved from fire : 
1. By the smoke pushing its way through unseen crevices 



Memoriai^. 235 

in the weatherboarding, thus indicating imminent dan- 
ger. 

2. By mother and daughter turning aside from regular 
work to shake some matting, thus discovering the smoka 

3. Bj a thoughtful daughter's quick observation and atr 
tention. 

4. By the telephone. 

5. By the rapid steps and faithful, steady, earnest work 
of a stoutj willing, and anxious man. 

6. By the ax. 

7. By water. 

It was not by any one of these alone, but by the harmo- 
nious eooperation of all. Thus no certain characteristic 
alone is the embodiment of true manhood or womanhood, 
but the harmonious blending of many, such as patience, 
humility, determination, integTity, love, and obedieneei to 
divine precepts. Education, true and genuine, is not only 
a fair knowledge of either mathematics, language, or arts, 
but a happy union of these with practical attainments. 
Likewise, all of God's requirements must be observed in 
order to save the soul. 



MEMORIALS. 



(Read in Sunday school at the Georgie Robertson Christian 
College.) 

Memokial — that which perpetuates memory, that which 
preserves remembrance. 

Gently raising the misty curtain that hides, sixty cen- 
turies, we are permitted to witness the unveiling of many 



.-236 He;arthstone Echoes. 

remarkable monuments^ for memorial institutions are as old 
as time. 

Each day's work in creation was a memorial of God's 
unlimited power. He called forth light, and at his bid- 
ding the infant earth in triumph arose fro'm her cradle of 
obscurity, shook off her dark mantle^ and in her aerial char- 
iot began to ride through the heavens in her destined path, 
a sublime memento of his handiwork. The mysterious 
firmament, like a wondrous sea of glass arched above us; 
the dr\' land, the surging billows, each giant oak, each blade 
of grass, each star that " blinks " its eye in that unlimited 
space above, the sun that in grandeur rules the day, the 
moon that modestly veils her face in his presence, each 
silvery inhabitant of the deep, each denizen of the air, each 
creeping thing, each beast, each member of the human kind, 
is a commemorative work ever portraying the hand divine. 

Gliding down the centuries, we find man erecting monu- 
ments in memory of certain events. Jacob's altar at 
Bethel, the stone that pillowed his weary head as he fled 
from his enraged brother and on which he was sleeping 
when in dreamland he beheld the ladder reaching heaven; 
the altar of rude stones at Mizpah, constructed by Jacob 
and his father-in-law, Laban, as a token of reconciliation ; 
the great Jewish passover, in memory of protection from, the 
slaughtering angel; the twelve stones from Jordan's bed, 
constructed into an altar to preserve remembrance of the 
dry passage across the afterwards historic stream; Solo- 
men's temple, that marvel of architecture^ — all these, and 



Memoriai^s. 237 

many more, are unveiled when wei peer through the pages 
of sacred lo're. 

Again, those marvelous Egyptian pyramids, still shelter- 
ing the dust of departed kings, bespeak the memory of more 
than forty centuries. Every gravestonei that lifts its head 
above the sleeping sod is a memorial. Think of the nu- 
merous memorial churches — the " Church of the ISTativity," 
at Bethlehem ; the " Garfield Memorial Church," at Wash- 
ington; and many, so many, others. Our beloved Am,eir- 
ica is esteemed in memory of Columbus ; our proud repub- 
lic, of Washington, Christianity, or the church of God, 
is a memorial of our risen and ascended Savior. The 
Lord's Supper is a monument, the unveiling of which brings 
fresh before our minds the fact that Jesus died for us. 

Tt is in the power of all tO' erect memorial stones, either 
to their credit or to their dishonor. Absalom raised for 
himself, in the king's dalci, a pillar, which he said was to 
perpetuate his memory — to keep his " name in remem- 
brance." After his untimely death, his body was cast '' into 
a great pit in the wood, and [they] laid a very great heap 
of stones upon him " to hide him from the idle gaze of 
passers-by and doubtless to keep his grief-stricken father 
from finding his mutilated remains. How striking the con- 
trast between these two memorial pillars ! The most en- 
during monument erected by Absalom was his wicked con- 
spiracy against his father. Who envies such reanembrancei ? 

The child on the seashore builds a high monument of 
sand. The tide rises and sweeps it away; it is gone. 



238 H:RARTHSTON:e KCHOES. 

Again, he begins to' roll a ball of snow. Larger and larger, 
and still larger, it grows, until he must look up to see its top. 
The sun smiles on the beautiful plaything, which, in turn, 
reflects his brightness, like myriads of sparkling diamonds. 
He merrily kisses it a few times ; it feels Ids warm breath ; 
it is gone. Such is life. Much of our monument build- 
ing is without calculation, without " counting the cost." 
The tide sweeps it away. It cannot endure the warmth 
and light of investigation. Time melts it; it is no more. 
ISTot thus with the monument erected by the beloved Mary, 
of Bethany. It shall last forever. The Egyptian pyramids 
are said not to be so tall, by several feet, as they were centu- 
ries ago. The solid rock, in constant use, will wear away. 
Even the " rock of Gibraltar " has doubtless been somewhat 
worn by the lashing, dashing, and splashing of tlie briny 
waves for six thousand years. But the memorial of this 
woman, humbly anointing the Savior's feet in token of 
her loving trust, is gTowing stronger, higher, brighter ; and 
this day (April 9, 1899), at this very hour, doubtless thou- 
sands, if not millions, of children and adults are^ gazing at 
this glorious monument, concerning which her Eriend and 
Savior said^ " She hath done what she could ; " and, " This 
. . . shall be spoken of for a memorial of her." 

Every rational being can build a monument that will 
reflect credit even after the builder shall have ceased to 
live, the grandest and most enduring memorial being a 
life of usefulness. Behold this splendid college building 
in which we are to-day assembled and which we so highly 



Memorials. 239 

prize ! It has recently been erected in memory of a young 
lady we held in high esteem — one we fondly loved ; a pure, 
lovable character ; a devout young Christian whose will was 
to do her Master's bidding. As I turn toward that, beiau- 
tiful face — that lovely picture hanging yonder on the wall — 
I think of the time I first met her, a charming little girl of 
eleven. Then my mind moves along year after year. I 
see her as she grandly develops into young womanhood, 
her life all the while manifesting a kind of sacredness un- 
usual for one of her years. Just as she reaches twenty- 
one, that beautiful life is gently removed from this land 
of " bitter-sweet." But is she dead ? Her body quietly 
sleeps in a sacred nook near that loved and hono-red home;; 
we feel sure her spiritual self is safe in our Father's love; 
but her influence still lives among us, and she, " being dead, 
yet speaketh " — speaks through this building ; speaks 
through this school, church, and community; speaks of the 
Savior's sacrifice^ the Father's love. 

Time speeds on. If nothing interferes, students will 
continue to go forth from this^ the Memorial Hall of the 
Georgie Robertson Christian College — many of them, to 
instruct the youth in science and arts ; many others, to pro- 
claim the gospel of truth, peace, and love. To this large 
assembly of students let me kindly suggest : When you are 
tempted to forsake the Lord or in any way bring reproach 
upon his great name, think of the sweeit-spirited young lady 
■whose influence is here perpetuated; think of her fidelity 
to the cause; and think of this school, an echo of her 



240 Hbarthstone Echoe^s. 

short, but grand, life. Be assured, that while living her ex- 
ample was well worthy of imitation, and doubtless in her 
death she accoimplished still more. " She hath done what 
she could," and, " being dead, jet speaketh." 

Long live this, the memorial of Miss Georgie Robertson ! 



A TRIBUTE OF LOVE. 

(To a newly- wedded pair.) 

Two streamlets issue from a mo^untain side^. Down the 
slopes thej gently wend their course in separate channels. 
By some means they at length begin to flow nearer together, 
then farther apart, still farther; again, nearer and nearer, 
until they unite and flow as one. 

In the central plains of our fair country two lives start 
forth near the same time and run in separate channels, like 
two brooklets, independent of and strangers to each other, 
now coming nearer, now in sight (in the same student 
band), then sweirving and going asunder, again drawing 
nearer, still nearer, until they are united in purpose, in 
heart, in love, in name, to gently wend their way — the twain 
made one — until they reach the mystic river. These two 
young lives are embodied in the forms of two of my friends, 
and to them I in love offer this unpretentious tribute. 

Two lives combined^ two hearts made one. In every 
instance this is a striking event, at the same time touched 
with sadness. Since you have each selected the other as 
the one with whom you desire tO' spend your remaining days. 



A Tribute; of L,ove. 241 

see that each works to the interest of the other. Marriage 
is either a blessing or a curse, a step upward or do'wnward. 
As to which it proves to he with you, much depends upon 
your future course. Marriage has been quaintly called " a 
world-without-end bargain ; " and, in the language of Long- 
fellow, 

"As unto tlie bow the cord is, so unto man is woman. 
Thougli she draws him, she obeys him; 
Though she leads him, yet she follows — 
Useless each without the other." 

It has alsO' been said : 

" Of earthly goods, the best is a good wife; 
A bad, the bitterest curse of human life." 

We trust this young wife will, as suggested by Byron, 

" Be the bright rainbow to the storms of life. 
Or the evening beam that smiles the clouds away 
And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray." 

Regarding man as the head, we hope this " head " will 
always be properly balanced, with ears ever ready to hear 
and heed the calls of duty, with eyes looking toward that 
which is honorable and right, and with ton^e ever ready 
to speak words of cheer to the disconsolate and praises to 
the Giver of all good. Considering woman the neck that 
turns the head and holds it in place, let this " neck " see 
that she never tries to hold the " head " in the wrong place 
or turn him astray. 

It is best that there be harmony in your ages — ^not one 
looking forward froau the standpoint of youth, the other 



242 Hkarthstone Echoks. 

looking backward upon his threescore and ten. You have 
this harmony, the man being one year the senior. There 
should always he harmony in religious views — " not un- 
equally yoked together." Solomon's wives woirshiped idols, 
and dragged him down. You have sweet harmony in reli- 
gious sentiment, each of you in early youth having accepted 
the Book of Truth as your only spiritual guide, Christ as 
your great Leader, and his name (and that only) as the 
one to distin^ish you from the world. This feature you 
will appreciate more and more as the years go by. It does 
my heart good tO' know you both are daily and unbiased 
readers of the word of God. When the earthi can bud and 
blossom without the sun, tlien, and not till then, can the 
world prosper without the Bible. In order to be congenial 
companions, there should also be harmony in your disposi- 
tions, your aspirations, your affections. This beautiful 
harmony can, to a very great extent, be cultivated. If one 
of you has peculiar notions or habits repulsive to the other 
and which profits you nothing, true love will prompt you 
to sacrifice those notionsi or Kabits for each other's sake. 
Congeniality is a creature of education, and one of its best 
teachers is compromise, ^ever sacrifice principle, however, 
for the sake of compromise, or disregard your properly- 
trained convictions; but avoid everything that tends to 
harshness, and do not cling to a fruitless opinion just for the 
sake of maintaining your position. There are so many un- 
happy marriages. Such lives run in separate channels — 
sometimes near each other, then swerving and flowing asun- 



A Tribute; of I,ove. 243 

der, parted by strong barriers. This is frequently caused by 
not observing the little courtesies that polish life and make 
it happy. JSTever disregard these little things. Home is 
the place to practice them. 

Honor each other with esteem, confidence, praise, and po- 
liteness. Doi not be afraid to express your approbation. 
Your eulogies may rust out^ but will never wear out by use. 
Let each txy to always avoid doing anything that will cast a 
shadow across the other's path. Many do this by unkind 
insinuations and thoughtless remarks. There is also much 
— O, so much ! — in the tone. Even kind words uttered in 
a cold or gruff tone fall like razors upon the tender heart 
of love, especially from the lips that so often have promised 
sweetness, for "to be wroth with one we love doth work 
like madness in the brain." Never permit yourselves to 
be eccentric, or peculiar, in the general sense of the term, 
nor to put on an air of indifference, as if you cared for no 
one except your own two selves. Do not be grum, but take 
pains to speak kindly to each other, even when greatly 
against your inclinations. As the balmy atmosphere con- 
verts the clouds into laughing dewdrops to revive the wilted 
flower, so kind words dissolve the rough impulses of even a 
stony heart and raise or reanimate the downcast spirit. 
Loving-kindness persisted in will almost melt the ice-cold 
heart into penitent tears. 

" Love is the lock that linketh noble minds ; faith is the 
key that shuts the spring of love." If you love each other 
tenderly, truly, your very frowns are fairer to each other 



244 ' He;arthstone) Echoe;s. 

than the smiles of others. Then how quickly would each 
heart of love be darkened by the other's shadow! Yon 
could endure a harsh word from any one els© better than 
from your other self. It would be too much like a dagger- 
hurled from your own hand intO' your own bosom. On the 
other hand, as Pop© says, 

"At eyery trifling scorn to take offense — ■ 
That always shows great pride or little sense." 

Do not expect life to be all sunshine, but make as much 
shine as possible, and carry it with you, in your lives 
and on your countenances. It will do you good and will 
inspire others. Cultivate a cheery, sweet, lovable disposi- 
tion ; for " melancholy takes away the appetite, the pleas- 
ure, and the gulden sleep," while " cheerfulness sweetens 
toil," Form the habit of being cheerful, and when trou- 
bles come, you can endure them better ; for 

" Sunshine broken in the rill, 
Though turned astray, is sunshine still." 

To the inevitable yield as cheerfully and submissively 
as possible. The strong, stiff oak that will not bend to the 
storm may be torn up by the roots ; while the willow, yield- 
ing for a little while, recovers its position and stands erect. 
View life from the very brightest standpoint. If you are 
unavoidably in humble circumstances, be consoled by the 
thought that " the scarcity of a thing enhances its value ; " 
if in affluence, remember the poor. Whether in the smile 
of fortune or the midnight of gloom, be assured that " god- 



A Tribute; of I<o\ne. 245 

liness with contentment is great gain." Eeial riches do not 
consist of " palatial residence, broad fields, and waving 
grain/' but of Christian character and good works. 

Never suffer yourselves to become "moody" (0, that most 
abominable disposition!) — sometimes all sugar, at otlier 
times tartaric acid; sometimes ready to give or receive a 
joke, at other times offended at the slightest one. " Winter, 
lingering, chills the lap of May." Then never appear cold 
toward each other, for you will regret it by and by. A 
cold, crabbed, or moody disposition is contagious as whoop- 
ing cough, and but few constitutions are sound enough to 
resist it. Humanity has faults; so neither of you should 
expect to find the other perfect, but should bear with each 
other patiently, lovingly, all the while trying to meekly over- 
come the faults. It is true that " patience is a bitter seed, 
but it yields rich fruit," which will make you rejoice that 
you planted it A kind, affectionate word, uttered in a 
soothing tone, is often like oil cast on the angry billows; 
it is a glorious " Peace, be still." Imitate and encourage 
the best characteristics of each other, and try to subdue the 
weaknesses. Let it never be said that either of you has 
retrograded by your union, but try to daily add to your 
store of useful knowledge and general culture. Do not con- 
sider your education completed; neither lose your desire 
for personal accomplishments, thus growing old prema- 
turely. You are still young enough to add much to yoiur 
intellectual store that will benefit you in years to coma 

Be good, do good, be prudent. Economize, but never be 



246 Hearthstone Echoes. 

stingy. In order to keep within your means, weigh yooir 
pocketbook ; then " gather up the fragments, that nothing 
be lost." Think before acting. Remember the Georgia 
adage : " Foresight is a long way ahead of hind sight." Do 
not run yourselves to death in pursuit of a shadow, which, 
when you reach it, is a shadow still. We often make the 
long, dark shadows that so cruelly haunt us. It is not the 
sun turning f ro-m earth, but earth turning f ro'm the sun, that 
gives us nights You will find some dark places in life, in 
which it will be hard for you to penetrate the gloom; but 
jou know there must be enough clouds to show the rainbow. 
Many a time a deep shadow will fall that you have not ex- 
pected, and will linger long where the sunlight stood be- 
fore; and as the leaves are often dewy with nature's tear 
drops, your eyes will often look up through both smiles and 
tears, while your hearts droop in sorrow. But each "shadow 
owes its birth to light," and God's promises can chase away 
your tears. Do not look for dark spots on life's great can- 
vas ; but when one is presented to you, go to work and paint 
thereon a bright picture. Let the clouds serve only as a 
dark margin which will display to better advantage the 
brighter colors. Try to make life as nearly as possible a 
long, perpetual thanksgiving. When darkness overshad- 
ows you, remember it takes darkness to reveal the stars. 
" The sable cloud heals the withered flowers." The rush- 
ing storm vividly reminds us of our own weakness and God's 
strength; and when we fully realize our own frailty, we 
will trust him all the more. 



A Tribute of IvOVE. 247 

May each of you be to the other as a guardian angel, 
hovering with gratitude over the path of prosperity and 
with tears of loving sympathy over the couch of suffering, 
always refraining from accents of displeasure or looks of re- 
proach. Try to make your united lives as nearly as possi- 
ble like a snowflake, which " leaves a mark, but not a stain,'' 

Eemember, earth's brightest flowers are constantly fad- 
ing, and you, too, will pass away. Let the cross of Jesus 
remain your anchor ; and when life's trials are ended, your 
rest will be sweet. Live so the sun of your existence, while 
setting, will not have to look back upon you with a blush- 
ing face. May he not have to veil his bright countenance 
with regret when, amid his golden glimmerings, he is ready 
to bid you good night. Then, after your tired sun is set 
and your friends look back upon your lives, I trust they shall 
not have occasion to mourn over a somber cloud that either 
chased your course or " lay cradled near the setting sun," 
but shall be enabled to say : " How fine has been the day, 
from dawn to close ! " " Long on the wave reflected lusters 
play." So may the sweet memory of your lives reflect a 
brilliance that will be recognized in heaven. 



CRUSH THAT SERPENT'S HEAD! 

Lying on my table is a picture of what the Lord doubt- 
less designed as a man. He somewhat resembles one, and 
is clothed like a "sort," of a man; but his disheveled, 
stringy hair, mottled features, woe-begone expression, and 



248 Hearthstone Echoes. 

ludicrous posture, while half sitting, half lying on the 
ground, indicate that the mmi pro'per has departed, leav- 
ing only the wreck. He reminds me of the ugly " shed " 
out of which the locust or the graceful butterfly has flown. 
Kear him is a beautiful fountain, and on high pedestal is 
mounted an attractive-looking maiden, holding high above 
her head a glass of sparkling beverage, while the other hand 
is extended toward him ; but he is in too low a stupor now 
to see her. However, he holds with firm grasp a large 
bottle, out of which arises a deadly flying serpent It lifts 
itself up, up, higher and higher; at last, with sudden beaid, 
it brings its large head down low. over him, its red eyes glar- 
ing, its alligator mouth open wide, its poisonous fajigs pro- 
jecting, and its forked tongue almost ready to strike his 
head. What imminent danger the man is in! It almost 
makes me shudder; but he slumbers on in his drunken stu- 
por, unconscious of danger. 

He is only a familiar specimen of the ruin caused by the 
mad demon of the cup. Why not crush that serpent's head 
and stop its deadly work? Such is not impossibla All 
we need is united effort and proper earnestness. Instead 
of being a unit in this grand work of reform, a few persons, 
and only a few, quietly and modestly assert their opposition 
to strong drink, apparently afraid to express their senti- 
ments in even a loud whisper, lest they should wound the 
feelings of some good friend or neighbor or " lose a cus- 
tomer," while thousands are continually traveling the do'wn- 
ward road and making the strongest efforts possible tO' pro- 



Crush that Serpent's Head. 249 

mote the demon's work. iN'ewspapers and othCT literary- 
periodicals seem afraid to tackle tliis formidable foe; the 
press, the pulpit, and the bar handle it too tenderly, as if 
with velvet gloves; whereas we all should fight against it, 
write against it, and work against it with all our power. 
We are simply playing at this work, though the widow and 
orphan never cease their pitiful pleading : " Friends of tem- 
perance, save us, or we perish ! " 

I shall not attempt to give you statistics as to the tre- 
mendous cost or expense of strong drink, for to the multi- 
plied millions of dollars thus worse than lost I would have 
to add the loss of time, health, happiness, frieaidship, good 
conscience, peace, intellect, character, life, and immortal 
soul. This would make the sum incalculable. I shall not 
tell you of the cheeks it has scalded, the hearts it has broken, 
the deathbed tortures it has caused^ the graves it has dug 
and filled with victims ; nor of how it is filling our country 
with idlesness, ignorance, and poverty; how it is filling our 
jails, penitentiaries, and lunatic asylums; neitheo* of its he- 
reditary tendency — its imposition on offspring; nor of its 
hardening, toughening effect on brain and nerves, thus stu- 
pefying the senses. You hnow all this. The blood of those 
murdered by the rum demon cries^ as it were, in pitiable 
accents from the ground; and Heaven appeals to us in au- 
thoritative tones: " Kemove the curse!" Strong, earnest 
persons have begun the noble work. They ask our aid. 
Shall we refuse it ? Shall we, as a people, sit with folded 
hands and silent tongues and permit the curse to envelop our 



250 HigARTHS'TONE) ECHOKS. 

land ? Shall we let its maddening flames spread "unckecked 
imtil tbey meet above our heads ? 

Young man, kindly listen just a moment When you 
took the first " social drink/' did you once think what a 
long step you were taking toward perdition ? When you 
jeered at the reeling form, red eyes, and bloated cheeks of 
that man just leaving the saloon, did you think you would 
ever resemble him. ? 'No, indeed ; you valued your charactetr 
too highly for that You had been " too well raised," be- 
longed to a " representative family," and occupied too high 
a position in the social world. But you had plenty of 
money, and thought it looked social and manly and rather 
gave you an air of importance to take a " toddy " with yooir 
friends and " treat " them occasionally ; in fact, you thought 
it would look cowardly, selfish, and narrow-minded toi do 
otherwise. You were fearful of being called a " tempeir- 
ance crank '' or a " goody-goody " and considered out of tlie 
" circle " — " not up." That old toper once thought the 
same, but he visited the grogshops, and there cast in his 
dimes and dollars; he visited the billiard room, and there 
tossed in his twenties and fifties. He is now a slave to habit, 
a slave to sin ; his family are paupers ; his home has bean 
sold to pay his whisky debts. Young man of intellect and 
merit, beware lest you also go beyond redemption ! Think 
of Solomon — of his wisdom, popularity, wealth, and social 
standing; then think of his downfall! Take warning! 
There has never been a time when a strictly moral, upright 
young man was more highly appreciated than at present 



Crush that Serpent's Head. 251 

Will you not turn and be one of that kind ? You will re- 
joice over tliei change " some sweet day." But yooi say you 
will never become a drunkard, will control yourself too well 
for that. How do' you know you will ? If you cannot or 
will not manifest self-control in the beginning of the evil, 
how can you expect to do so after the^ viper has secure hold 
of yon ? But suppose you never drink " toi excess," as yoiu 
say. Do you know who is decidedly the most formidable 
character among the immense multitudes who' drink ? ISTot 
the toper; no one will select Jiim as a criterion. It is the 
so-called " respectable dram drinker " — the man who drinks 
when he pleases, remains in good society, amuse® others 
with his " wit," makes money, seems none the less respected, 
is probably a church member " in good standing," drinks 
mneh more than you do, yet never becomes what the world 
calls a " drunkard." He is the character tO' be most seri- 
ously dreaded. 

So many excuses are offered for drinking. A certain 
man asserts his liberty, wants to be free; yes, free., like the 
candle fly — free to fly into the flames; free^ like the un- 
guided ship — free to dash headlong against the terrible 
breakers or into the fury of the stoirm. Yes, he is free in 
many respects — free from love and respect for himself and 
others ; free from the confidence of his best friends, or even 
his companions at the beer shop ; free from nearly all good 
habits and good inclinations; free from the sweet associa- 
tions of the pure in heart and the sacred influence: of God's 
holy word ; free from the promise of life eternal. If this be 



252 Hearthstone Echoes. 

liberty, give me bondage or give me death. One man comes 
witb that old moss-covered excuse that he has lost loved 
ones and his sorrow is overpowering him; he mnst drown 
it in drink. Man, stop a moment, I beg you! Think! 
Are you not fearful that while droiwning yoiir sorrow you 
will also drown your so'ul ? A quantity of +he element suf- 
ficient for one will often answeir for both. Again, is drunk- 
enness the tribute of respect you ofier tO' the memory of your 
dear departed? Is this yo'ur badge of mourning — a red 
nose? Did that beloved wife, while dying, request you to 
become a drunkard, and thus prepare to meet her in the 
better land ? If she should now be permitted, with some 
of the heavenly host, to lean over the jasper walls and watch 
you reeling, staggering, falling, rolling in the dust, and 
hear your vile utterances, would she be proud to say to 
those celestial watchers: " That is my beloved husband? " 
Suppose your children in the spirit land should see and 
recognize you in this condition, would they be proud (if in 
their power) to call the angels together and tell them : " Yon- 
der is our papa ? " 

You say the temptation to drink is too strong for you to 
resist. Suppose you knew, positively, that each glass con- 
tained a sufficient quantity of strychnine to kill yO'U after 
a few hours' indescribable agony, would you be able to 
resist it? If so, this is evidence that you have the power 
to refrain from drink. The exercise of will is what 
you need. It is more potent in effecting a reform than 
all the drugs and other medicines in the world, but its 



Crush that Serpent's Head. 253 

neglect has placed a skeleiton made by whisky in many a 
household. Alexander co'uld conquer the world of arms, 
but could not conquer his thirst for intoxicants; hence he 
filled an inebriate's grave. More than two millions of Per- 
sians were conquered by three hundred Spartans^ — the re- 
sult of temperance. 

Whisky makers and dealers, are you proud of your call- 
ing, outside of the money it brings you ? Think of your 
responsibility ! You know the ruin you are working. You 
will not deny it. You hnow you are desolating homes, mak- 
ing widows and orphans, and causing barefooted children to 
cry for bread. Will you be first to supply them? Will 
you restore all you have taken from them ? 

"Just think of the sorrows and cares. 
The heartrending sighs and the fears. 
Of the words and the blows and the cruelest woes, 
And then think of an ocean of tears! " 

Notice the attitudes, hiccoughs, and winks of your last 
customer as he leaves your counteir! Do' not fail to catch 
a few puffs of his fragrant (?) whisky-tobacco breath. 
Watch him ! He has now fallen headlong across that bed 
in the coTuer in a fit of delirium tremens. Go tO' him 
kindly (he is a fine specimen of your work) ; congratulate 
him on his wonderful success ; then earnestly give thanks to 
God, whose son you are — you Christian (?) rumseller — 
for thus prospering your godly efforts. His " spell " is 
now wearing off. Take him up tenderly and start him 
home to his wife and children. iRo; they have no com- 
fortable home, as you have; no good fire to take him to. 



254 HEARTHSTONE) ECHOES. 

and no money to provide any (you. Kave their money). 
Put him in your own new surrey ; go with him to your own 
splendid home and into your warm, comfortable family 
room, with your wife and children; have your servants to 
prepare him a " good, square meal ; " let yo'ur wife arrange 
her best bed, and you place him thereon ; stay right by him 
through the varied effects of the attack ; wait on him like a 
brother ; and when he becomes sober, take him back to your 
saloon; then repeat your work. He has paid you bounti- 
fully for this kindness, and it is your duty to see that he is 
properly cared for. But, there ! Saloon kee^per, " your 
sign has fallen down " — a drunken man on the sidewalk. 
Be brave ; go to him ; gently lift him up ; fold your amaa 
lovingly around him; then proudly exclaim to your hun- 
dreds of spectators : " This is the kind of work done in my 
shop ! " 

Moreover, my friend, while you are thus voluntarily 
dragging your fellow-men down to the lowest depths of 
earthly and eternal degradation,, what are your calm, serious 
ideas as to your own future destiny? The poet seems to 
wonder if God is partial in his judgment; therefore he 

asks : 

" O, righteous God, must drunkards be 
Eternally condemned by thee? 
Must they in endless torment lie. 
While drunkard makers dwell on high? " 

THE KIJMSELLEK JUSTIFIED. 

"Ah, but my vocation is legal" you say. " I have Uncle 
Sam on my side, and his laws are based upon the Bible." 



Crush THAT Serpent's Head. 255 

Are tliej — all of tJiem. ? Where doeS' " Uncle Sam " 
find divine authority for making drunkards ? It must be 
in one of these two passages : " Woe unto him that giveth 
his neighbor drink ! " or, " The love of money is the root of 
all evil." 

YeS; you have license; but for what did you ask when 
requesting license tO' sell into'xicants ? You virtually asked 
for the sanction of the law not only to make other men poor 
that you might be made rich, but also to make drunkards 
of the noblest youths, young men, husbands, and fathers; 
sanction of law to make men slaves and to ruin body and 
soul; sanction of law to take the homes^ food, and raiment 
from helpless women and children; to destroy peiace and 
happiness in the family circle and substitute misery, woo, 
wretchedness, and tears; to make inmates for jails, alms-* 
houses, penitentiaries, asylums, and places of evil resori; 
to make gamblers, burglars, thieves, highway robbers, mur- 
derers, and disreputable characters of every either kind. 
You ask the sanction of the law to bring men down from 
high stations to worse than brutal degradation, then to cast 
their souls, with your own, into the regions of everlasting 
woe, ^Notwithstanding all this, you brave saloon keepea*, 
you stand on a high platform of honor, genuine honesty, 
and uprightness, compared with that class of indi\idual8 
(whose name is " Legion ") who " on the sly " (in drug 
stores and elsewhere) sell the stuff that converts men into 
demons. To the terrible sin of selling whisky they add those 
of shamefacedness, stealthiness, undermining deception, 



256 He;arthston:b Echoes. 

and outright hypocrisy. JSTeither does this excuse the phy- 
sician who gives prescriptioios for whisky where it is not 
essential. 

JSTo doubt you are proud of your licensei, for " licenset " 
is your plea. Then take special care of that paper which 
extends to you such wonderful privileges ; keep it ; lock it up 
securely among your choicest treasures ; guard it as the a,p- 
pie of your eye. When the drunkard's homeless and for- 
lorn wife and children come, hungry, half clad, shivering, 
weeping, and fall on their knees before you and in, heart- 
rending tones implore you not to sell that man more 
drink, quickly uidock your safe of treasures, bring forth the 
selfsame paper, and convince them your work is lawful. 
Make your will. Do not neglect it too long, for evem sa- 
loon keepers die, sometimes. In making that will, be cer- 
tain to arrange for this precious documenti — ^your saloon 
license — to be placed in th.e coffin with you, held securei by 
your coldj stiff fingers., which will then clinch it even, more 
firmly than now. When by the Lord you are called upon 
in the spirit realm to confront the souls of your victims, 
lose no time ; select a fleet-winged messenger to flit to earth ; 
let him snatch down that costly rum-bought marble mouu- 
ment, tear open your handsome rum-bought metallic coffin, 
and thence bring forth that selfsa,me precious document, 
dingy and soiled with the foul decay of your skeleton 
fingers ; take it and hurriedly file in your plea of justifica- 
tion ; boldly and fearlessly lay down your license on the 



Crush that Serpent's Head. 257 

bar of the great Judge, and say : " Here, Lord, is my au- 
thority, legalized by Uncle Sam." 

Worst of all is " the power behind the throne " that au- 
thorizes making and selling this soul destroyer. Woe un,to 
the voters, who control " the powers that be," when they 
do not try to crush the head of the poisonous viper, the 
serpent of the still! A heathen king once caused the 
slaughter of two himdred maidens, that he might mix 
their blood with tlie mortar in erecting an idol's temple. 
The civilized world stood aghast and contemplated the hor- 
rible deed with commingled disgust and indignation. But 
atrocious as was that awful transaction^ it is not tO' be con> 
pared with what the people of our country are doing every 
year. By law we have chartered the erection of a temple 
to Bacchus, in the mortar of which is yearly mixed the 
blood of from sixty thousand to one hundred thousand of 
our citizens. " Upon this never-ceasing slaughter meet of 
us are looking with indifference, while many behold it with 
applausa The nation is unmoved by the shrieks of broken- 
hearted women, and complacently hears the wails of orphan 
children. In vain do mothers kneel at tbe shrine of their 
country and extend tlieir hands and turn their tearful eyes 
to tbe genius of our government, imploring protection 
against this devouring god who demands the blood of their 
sons. How long, blessed Lord, must this yearly sacrifice 
be made to the god of rum ? " (J. B. Briney.) 

Our merchants set apart days tliey call " openings." On 
these days they make the very best possible display of their 



258 Hearthstone; EcHo:es. 

goods, and kindly invite everybody to oome and see. They 
are pleased with their selections^ and are aiLxioiis for the 
public to examine them. I would suggest a rumselleor's 
" opening " day. As in the other instance, written invita- 
tions should be sent to the prominent citizens — those you 
expect to furnish your trade; ask themi tO' come and exam- 
ine your goods and thei work you are; doing; then present 
all your dram drinkers and drunkards in the strongest pos- 
sible way — in your show windows, in front of your doors, 
on the streets ; let your counters and show cases be reserved 
for those unable to sit or stand: have a "first-class phono- 
graph to catch and preserve the utterances of your best sam- 
ples; distribute specimens of your best tobacco and best 
drink among the most cultured of your visitors; make the 
moet striking display possible. This " opening " will sug- 
gest to you the idea of a grand rally of all the forces along 
your line — a regular Makers,' Dealers' and Consumers' 
Association — which should be held without fail in the very 
near future. I would suggest the next "July 4 " as an 
appropriate time for it to begin. It would do great good, 
and should not be postponed. 'No special preparations, will 
be required; your work is always in shape for each9>ition. 
Select one of the most prominent cities of our republic, and 
yoa can have a wonderful show, far surpassing that of Chi- 
cago, Buffalo, or Paris. Let every whisky maker and dealer 
of every type be there, including every " wild-cat " and 
" blind-tiger " man of our nation; let their cargoes of intoK- 
icants be arranged in pyramids reaching far toward the 



Crush that Serpent's Head. 259 

skies; send out illustrated catalogues, skowing ihe magni- 
tude of this business, the estent of its influencei, and the 
result of its work; let the frontispiece be a painting — a 
home, once a miniature paradise, now a haunt of wretched- 
ness. (For several of the following suggestions I am in- 
debted to a newspaper clipping.) Paint a young and beau- 
tiful bride at the hymeneal altar, then the. wan, wasted 
woman, hugging to her heart a! babe frightened at the ap- 
proach of what was once a man; " paint an empty larder, 
a scanty wardrobe, a fireless hearth; paint, if you can, the 
misery of that abused wife, trembling as she hears the un- 
steady steps of her approaching husband; open the door; 
see the affrighted woman crouching in the corner and ward- 
ing off the drunken blows that otherwise would fall on her 
child; at length paint Death holding his awful court, the 
wife and child weltering in. blood, and the besotted assassin 
swinging from the gallows of outraged justiceu" Through- 
out the catalogue give lifelike illustrations of the various 
work dene by drink; then state that these pictures, en- 
larged and painted true to life by famous artists, will be 
seen in the various buildings on the exposition grounds ; not 
only this, but that the many scenes represented by the paint- 
ings will be enacted in reality there^ tO' better display the 
work of our nation. Do not forget to advertise the Rum- 
sellers' Contest, in which much pains will be taken to 
" show off " the most striking specimens of work. As some 
one has kindly suggested, let premiums be offered for the 
best young drinhers and for the best aged drinkers; let 



26o He;arthstone Echoe;s. 

the mothers, sisters, and sweethearts of the boys be present ; 
also the haggard wives and broken-hearted daughters of old 
topers (they will take a mournful interest in the contest) ; 
let the judges be barkeepers who have enticed the men and 
bovs to drink; to give variety, let other nations, have some 
of their best representatives in the contest (yoii need not 
fear their rivalry). Congregate as much of the world as 
you can ; then let the contest begin in earnest. When you 
have decided upon the successful candidate for dram-drvrik- 
ing honors, pin on his arm a long blue ribbon, dyed in the 
anguish and melancholy of women's hearts. Go then and 
congratulate the weeping mother and the pale, soirro'wf ul sis- 
ter and sweetheart, in whose hearts hope has died; then 
let this champion, with blue ribbon flying, go reeling round 
the ring for the cheers of the bloated spectators, while the 
hand plays " Eill Up the Wine Cup." 

'E&sX, present the successful toper candidate. " Eill him 
with whisky until his eyes glare with lightning, with which 
he shocks his home and its shrinking hearts; until his fist 
is clinched and sta-ikes those he should protect, until his 
mouth pours forth curses as a storm cloud does the thunder- 
claps, until every feature is aglow with the advertisements 
of the torment that burns in his breast. When your accom- 
plished beast is thus at the height of his deba.uch,, with blue 
streamer flying and the premium bottle of whisky under his 
arm, let him stagger around the arena," fall, rise, then 
fall again, to the delight of the crowd, while the band plays 
and the glad spectators join in the chorus: 



Crush that Serpent's Head. 261 

"Shout! tlie victory, the victory, the victory!" 
The premium given the successful young drinker is a 
large bottle of tears. Ah, there is some si^ificance in ex- 
hibiting tears in a bottle ! He holds this bottle high in his 
hand ; goes around the ring again, shouting, " Three cheers 
for King Alcohol ! Three cheers for a woman's tears ! " 
while over yonder on a low platform stands the shriveled 
form of a little woman, prematurely gray ; and with trem- 
bling, but sweet, plaintive voice, she softly sings "A Boy's 
Best Friend is His Mother " and " O, Where is My Boy 
To-night ? " This is immediately followed by a little girl, 
who touchingly sings " Father's a Drunkard and Mother is 
Dead " and " O, Father, Dear Father, Come Home ! " 

Some one has further suggested tiiat all the whisky on 
exhibition be gratuitously distributed for the enlivening 
of the crowd. Do not forget to exhibit a few of the " lean, 
cold beds on which the wives of drunkards lie nightly and 
weep ; " also a number of shoeless feet, and a basket of the 
stale crusts on which hungry children subsist. At last open 
a separate inclosure and let there be seen a pile of bones al- 
most mountain high — ^bones of all whose death has been 
caused by dissipation. Their teeth and skulls will be piled 
on the tables of the fair. Call around these stands the 
wives and children and other relatives of the murdered and 
murdering drunkards. Let these relatives present ©very 
whisky maker and whisky seller with a souvenir watch 
charm — a simple tooth from these immense piles of cher- 
ished relics ; and let these men continue tO' wear them near 



262 He;arthston£; Echoes. 

their hearts, and finally give thein space in their coiffins; 
also let each of these men select a shull and carry it home to 
his wife as a memento from the " Whisky Fair." When 
the eye grows weary looking at the teeth, the skulls, and the 
mountain of bones, turn a litde and let it see that crimson 
pool. It is the blood of the annual " sixty or one hundred 
thousand." ]^ow see that every whisky dealer of every de- 
scription dips his pen into that pool of blood, and, in the 
presence of the vast assembly, signs this pledge : "I will 
continue to do all in my power to add to this pile of bones 
and crimson pool." Just before the president of the asso- 
ciation (who is a dram-drinking preacher) dismisses^ the 
throng wdth a short, eloquent prayer, thanking God for the 
wonderful prosperity of the great liquor traffic and pray- 
ing that its powers may still be extended, let him be pre- 
sented with a large, handsome painting — a simple reward 
for his faithful services during this great rally, as well as 
for his lifelong example which has done so much to encour- 
age drink. That this painting may give a faint idea, of 
the work done in the businesSj here are a few suggestions 
you may hand to the skilled artist who is to paint it; " Paint 
health in ruins, hope destroyed, affections crushed, prayea*3 
silenced; paint the chosen seats, of paternal care, of filial 
pity, of brotherly love, of maternal devotion — all, all va- 
cant ; paint all the crimes of every stature and of every hue, 
from murder standing aghast over a grave which it has no 
means to cover down to the dark valley of death peopled 
with living slaves ; paint home a desert and shame a tyrant ; 



A Broken Chain. 263 

paint a landscape with trees whose fruit is poison and whose 
shade is death, with mountain torrents tributaxy to an ocean 
whoso very waves are firej put in the most distant back- 
ground the vanishing vision of a blessed past, and into the 
foree:round put the terrible certainty of an accursed fu- 
ture ; people the scene with men whose shattered forms are 
tenanted by to^rmented souls, with children upon whose lips 
no smile can ever play, and with women into whose cheeks 
furrows have been burned by tears wrung by anguish from 
breaking hearts. Paint such a picture; and when you are 
ready to show it, do' not let in the rays of the heavenly sun, 
but illuminate it with the glares of the inf erual fires, and 
still your horrible picture falls short of tlie truth." 



A BROKEN CHAIR 

EvEKY "heart knoweth its own bitterness." Almost 
every love chain has its missing links ; the household has its 
vacant chairs ; each heart has its empty corners. Many a 
trunk, bureau drawer, and closet contains relics treasured 
as almost sacred because they were once handled by fingers 
now grown cold. Go tO' a home of love and ask to see keep- 
sakes from dear ones departed, and some one will show you 
a pair of tiny slippers and unfold some dainty little dresses 
which " baby " used to wear. Here are some of its play- 
things; there is its picture, life-size, on an easel. Ask 
where is that baby dear, and the tender mother, too full to 
speak, raises her tear-dimmed eyes toward heaveoi. 



264 Hearthston:^ Echoeis. 

Go to anotber home. Theire you will find a lonely, a de- 
serted room, once made bright by a cheerful, sunny-faced 
youth who delighted in calling that Jiis room. There you 
will find many relics of his boyhood — ^keepsakes from 
friends dearly loved. There are his clothes, his hats, his 
slippers, his books — all these, and many moirei, reminders 
that the room was once occupied by a boy just reaching 
manhood. Where is that boy ? Another family chain has 
been broken, and he is the missing link. 

Visit another home, and a dutiful daughter, with aching 
heart, will go to an old-fashioned walnut or cedar chest, 
take therefrom beautiful quilts pieced according to tedious 
patterns and counterpanes knit and turfed in antique de- 
signs, showing great skill and jjatienca " This," says the 
daughter, " is the handiwork of the oine I was always proud 
to call ' my mo'ther.' Her precious fingers became tired, 
her eyes grew dim, she went to sleep, we laid her to rest in 
the old churchyard yonder." At this moment the father 
enters, with an old-fashioned daguerreotype, portraying her 
beautiful features when young, then points to a portrait 
on the wall, the same sweet face — ^this time displaying the 
furrowed cheek and wrinkled brow of threescore years and 
ten. " This first," says the dear old man, with quivering 
lip and trembling voice, " is the darling of my youth, while 
this last is the companion and solace of my old age. For 
more than half a century our hearts beat as one, our pur- 
poses were one ; but now my love chain is broken, and she 
is one of the missins: links." 



A Brokijn Chain. 265 

Inquire at another home — no ; you need not inquirei, only 
look. Weeping children are gathered around a heart- 
broken mother, who is bending' low over the sinking form, 
of him she loves better than her own life. This bespeaks 
its own story; it tells who here is soon tO' be the severed 
link. 

What causes these vacancies ? Death. We shun his ap- 
proach in our households and ward him off as lon^' as pos- 
sible. Physicians kindly aid us in battling against the in- 
truder; but many times all human efforts fail, and, to our 
sorrow, the " king of terro'rs " is. victorious. He carries 
away objects of our love, leaving our hearts torn and bleed- 
ing. In one household he makes choice of the prattling 
babe, and unkindly takes it from its mother's tender em- 
brace ; in another he selects young manhood's opening bud ; 
froan the next he takes blooming young womanhood, tlie 
sunlight of home, the mother's companion. ]!^ext, he creeps 
stealthily under the roof where for half a century husband 
and wife have lived and loved ; he looks at the aged couple^ — 
first at one, then at the other, as if undecided which to take ; 
and, almost before we are aware of his decision, one has 
been taken, the other is left to mourn. Sometimes he selects 
the ripened sheaf which is heavy laden with golden fruit, 
only awaiting the harvester. 

Strange monster this. Sometimes he wrestles lo'Ug and 
hard with the physical frame before it yields tO' his over- 
powering strengtli; sometimes he seems to softly place his 
finger on the heartstrings and bid them cease to beat. In 



266 Hearthstone Echoes. 

either case he is victorious, and, sooner or later, carries off 
the prize, leaving some one to grieve. Thanks to that higher 
Power that conquers even death and deprives it of its venom 
sting ! The same Power will transform and reunite all the 
worthy links and in heaven there will be nO' broken chain. 



AN UPWARD GLANCE. 

As the exquisite painting on the overhead ceiling in the 
" great Orient " is viewed by looking into an immense mir- 
ror on the floor to rest the eyes from long looking upward, 
so we may look downward and around us at Dame ISTature's 
laughing beauties and see divine power and love. We look 
on the placid bosom of a crystal lake and see trees, clouds, 
sun, moon, and stars duplicated in the water; we behold 
their portraits in the deep. We often see heavenly splendor 
by reflection ; for, as Young says, " I^ature is a glass, re- 
flecting God." But these are mere shadows. By looking 
downward we can never see the real objects they represent; 
they are above tbs. We cannot reach them, but we may en- 
joy their light and beauty more by looking upward. 

There are times in life when it seems tO' us that " every- 
thing goes wrO'Ug." The little shadows across our paths 
blend into one broad, dense one, and our way seems — O, so 
dreary ! Have we ever thought of it — that this is because 
we confine our vision too near ourselves f These feelings 
often haunt uSi even when wei are doing well and are sur- 
' rounded by the very individuals we most fondly love:. We 



An Upward Gi^anci;. 267 

often cO'inplain of our environments when we could scarcely 
give one reason why. How much, wiser and nobler' tO' re-- 
move the film from our own eyes, then look up higher ! In 
the beautiful sky of blue no stain or cloud appears ; all the 
clouds we see are confined to the atmosphere surroimding 
us. When everytliing goes right and life seems bright, we 
can walk in the light and cheerfully obey the Lord. When 
only clouds are in sight and sorrows deepen with the night, 
if we will look above for the light and still gladly, though 
tearfully, obey, we will feel an inward happiness even amid 
adversity. 

When sad days are ours; when gloom and despondency, 
as sable curtains, drape our hearts, two maidens, as it were, 
will stand beside us, each holding a cup and enticing us to 
drink. The first, with sighs and moans and tears and trem- 
bling hand, presents her cup and beseeches: "Drink, and 
be mine ! " The other, with steady hand, radiant face, eyes 
sparkling as the gems of heaven, and with voice so low and 
sweet, says : " Drink, and be glad ! " The first maiden is 
Despair, with her goblet of rue; the second maiden, Hope, 
with her cup of joy. Which cup shall we quaff? We 
should remem.ber Despair always brings the shade; brave- 
hearted Hope, the shine. 

"As in sparkling majesty a star 

Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud, 
Brightening the half-veiled face of heaven afar. 

So when dark thoughts our brooding spirits shroud, 
Sweet Hope celestial influence o'er us sheds. 
Waving her silver pinions round our heads." 



268 He;arthstone Echoe;s. 

The tall mountain SAvells from the vale and lifts its ma- 
jestic head towaxd the heavens, nnconscions of the storm fast 
sweeping around its base. While the rolling clouds are flit- 
ting across its breast amid thunder's roar and lightning's 
playful flashes, and while the rain falls in torrents about 
its foot, golden sunshine settles on its uplifted head. By 
obedient faith we can elevate our souls above the storms 
of time to the land of eternal sunshine. Blessed thought! 
"No clouds up yonder ; no tears in heaven ! 

Through a small telescope I once counted the many little 
crystal squares in a window three miles distant. At an- 
other time I watched the steady movements of an approach- 
ing steamer softly gliding over the sky-tdnted wavelets, every 
part showing as distinctly as if but a few pacesi distant, 
though scores of miles intervened. Through Lord Ross' 
" Improved " the moving, rolling spheres seem brought al- 
most within arm's reach; yet there is another Teleecoipe, 
compared with which Lord Boss' and Yerke's may hide 
their faces with crimson blushes. It not only enraptures 
us with a more wonderful display of the sparkling, " be- 
witching " eyes of heaven, but intO' it we can look and form 
an idea of the great city, the New Jerusalem, and can learn 
the characteristics of our grand and glorious King. 

Through this marvelous telescope of faith we gaze into 

the glorious beyond as it will appear after time shall have 

finished its course. It opens to us the pearly portals, and 

we see the King of glory. It gives us a view of the jasper 

' walls, the golden streets, the tree of life. We keep look- 



What Jimmie; Gave. 269 

ing and admiring. New beauties constantly come into 
view. There is that crystal fountain, the river of life, 
gently flowing from near the throne of God, its ripples dan- 
cing in beauty as if fanned by seraphs' wings; there, the 
angelic host, the heavenly choir, the redeemed of all ages, 
the exalted Redeemer, the throne of glory, the Father of 
love. There is where we should lay up our treasure; for 
" where the treasure is, there will the heart be also." 

God is the Giver of all our hopes, our blessings, our prom- 
ises ;• but — see ! — he is above them. Let us look to him, 
go to him. 



WHAT JIMMIE GAVE. 

The appreciative child who occasionally gives his teacher 
even a little flower, accompanied by a smile of affection, 
is unconsciously planting the seed of a beautiful " forget- 
me-not " that will long continue to bud and blossom in the 
teacher's bosom. A little boy — a pupil of mine for five 
consecutive years — ^formed the habit of bringing me some- 
thing (to the schoolroom) almost every day. He was an 
unusually bright child, made rapid progress in school, but 
was so full of mischief that I often had to resort tO' some 
kind of rigid discipline. This, however, seemed only to 
increase his love for me; and the next morning he would, 
as usual, bring some little token of remembrance — an apple, 
peach, shell, or flower ; more frequently the latter. I was 
almost sure of the first violet, pansy, crocus, jonquil, hya- 



270 Hb^arthstone Echoes. 

cinth, and rose that bloomed in his mother's flower garden. 
One bleak, wintry morning, when no fruit or flower could 
be found, he placed in my hand a beautiful pebble. With 
my pencil I immediately wrote on it his name, "Jimmie." 
Years have passed. Little smiling-faced, rosy-cheeked, 
auburn-haired, brown-eyed Jimmie became a man, then a 
Christian, married, went West, was seized by consumption, 
came home (he said, to die among his friends), and in the 
family burial ground his body was placed near his father, 
mother, brothers, and sisters, who, one by one, had recently 
fallen victims of the same uncompromising foe. Thus 
James P. Thompson, of Mars' Hill, near Florence, Ala., 
has long since gone to his flnal reward, and his photograph 
and the little pebble bearing his name are the only memen- 
tos I have from his hand; but in my memory still fondly 
lingers each feature of that bright and dear little face, as 
well as the many small tokens of a loving remembrance — - 
that many " forget-me-nots " carefully placed on the tablet 
of my heart. Quiet influence is often the strongest and 
most durable. 



ARE YOU A SLAVE? 

If so, what is your master's name ? " His name is 
' Habit,' " you reply. Habit ? Well, yes. Then proba- 
blj' I am well acquainted with him. He belongs to a very 
large family, many of whose members it will do to watch. 
Some of them are trustworthy, such as Work Habit, Tidy 



Arb You a Slavs? 271 

Habit, Tnith Habit, Patience Habit, Prudenc© Habit, and 
a few others. Love Habit is. a large-hearted, whole-souled 
" creature," but is somewhat fickle; while, many of the fam- 
ily are dangerous in the extreme, among whom I shall 
merely mention Slang Habit, Swear Habit, Falsehood 
Habit, Drink Habit, and Steal Habit. There are alsoi trip- 
lets in this branch of the Habit family, called by the pet 
names " Dip.," " Chew," and " Smoke." like a family T 
once knew who had "Ann " attached to every name — " Mary 
Ann," " Lucinda Ann," etc. — so these triplets have O'ue cer- 
tain name in common : " Dip Spit," " Chew Spit," and 
" Smoke Spit." All the Habits show untiring devotion to 
those who will familiarize themselves with, and encourage 
them — will " stick closer than a brother; " and a passion- 
ate fondness is usually reoiprocated. Strange indeed to 
say, man manifests this devout attachment to Habit, whether 
the same proves to be his very best friend or his very 
bitterest foe. If there is any difference, he is partial to 
the latter. These triplets and the last five previously men- 
tioned, as well as many of the others, are dangerous asso- 
ciates, despotic in their natures, and become tyrannical 
masters. It is not compulsory on us to go into this 
bondage, however ; neither do we usually do so deliberately 
or willfully. We glide into it by degrees, by association, 
by yielding. Each habit is, in its infancy, like a spider's 
web — frail, fragile, easily broken; but it develops rapidly. 
" If neglected, it soon becomes a thread or twine ; next, a 
cord or rope ; finally, a cable. Then who can break it ? " 



272 He;arthstone; Echoes. 

If we have much dealing with these evil parties, they are 
almost sure, before we are aware of it, to have the " noose '* 
around our necks, then to have us in chains and shackles ; 
and terrible is their despotism. 

It would be casting a sad reflection on your intelligence 
for me to presume tO' portray to you the evils of the various 
tobacco habits. You know them as well as I do, perhaps 
better. Some of you know from experience, for you are 
slaves thereto. Why ? Because you would not master the 
habit in its infancy, when it was a mere spidetr's web ; and 
now it has grown into an immense cable, and you cannot 
break it (you think you cannot). It is your despotic mas- 
ter; you are its obedient slave. You have voluntarily sur- 
rendered to this bewitching master; now he keeps you in his 
service, yet makes you pay all the expenses. Friend, what 
do you think of yourself ? Do not tell me you place 
a higher estimate on yourself in consequence thereof, or that 
any one else values you more highly. Can you boast of 
your independence — of your liberty — ^while yielding sub- 
missively to one of nature's roughest, most uncouth weeds — 
a weed which neither the horse, the cow, the cat, the dog, 
nor even the filthy hog will condescend to taste ? They 
say sheep will nibble at it occasionally. It is ravenously 
devoured by one class of worms {very green ones), and 
man stands next. There are tw^o animals in the class — 
the large, fat, green worm and man; and man stands next 
to head. He is doubtless justly entitled to the " head- 



Are; You a Si^ave;? 273 

mark," for he consumes it in many forms the worm would 
not deign to touch. 

You will not now plead the long-since-exploded theory 
as to its medicinal effect — as a cure for dyspeptics, a pre- 
server of teeth, etc. But you say your constitution needs a 
stimulant, Ko doubt of it. You have kept it stimulated 
until it requires it. I once heard a clever man say he en- 
tirely lost control of his temper when without tobacco two 
hours; that he became nervous, irritable, restless, discon- 
tented ; wanted to kill every hog and cow that cam© within 
his reach ; had no patience with even his wife and children. 
A certain preacher said if he should come into our neigh- 
borhood without tobacco he would be so " cross and ilL 
natured " he would not be fit to appear among us, much 
less preach for us. What a pity intelligent physicians ever 
recommend tbe use of whisky or tobacco to their patients ! 
Almost every one thus becomes a slave. Wonder if in any 
of these instances the " doctor " likes the glass and weed 
tolerably well himself. (Misery enjoys company.) One 
preacher was really advised by a '"' medicine man " to smoke 
a cigar after each sermon as a stimulant for his weak throat 
(instead of advising him to take a small piece of ginger or a 
cubeb, which would not enslave him) ; and I have heard 
of two preachers who actually did smoke before leaving the 
house of the Lord, while the congregation was singing, yet 
would preach : " Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin 
which doth so easily beset us." How thankful that we are 
not commanded to offer tobacco incense.! The old tobacco 



274 Hearthstone Echoes. 

^' toper " would greatly prefer that we should not mention 
the subject in his presence, yet his candid advice is for the 
young to forever refrain from its use. So'me say they would 
rather live on " half rations," with plenty of the " comfort- 
ing weed," than to have every other luxury without it; yet 
they will say this is a loathsome habit and advise others not 
to form it. Most persons who use tobacco regret it bitterly 
some time in life, though they do not always acknowledge 
this. You say it is so much company to you. What a re- 
flection on us, your friends ! Why not save your tobacco 
until we are out of your sight, when you will need " com- 
pany ? " Instead of this you often use it while we are with 
you and trying to be as good " company " as possible. 

You will not deny that this practice is not only unneces- 
sary, useless, ugly, filthy, expensive, dangerous, and un- 
healthful, but is to a certain extent also demoralizing, inas- 
much as it often throws its victims intO' immoral company — 
gives them immoral and intemperate associates. True, we 
find many nice, intelligent persons who use tobacco; but 
listen ! It is difficult to find many low characters who do 
not. Select the lazy men in your community. Most of 
them use it. Point out the profane, the stingy, the un- 
truthful ; the backbiters, the extortioners, the drunkards, and 
the gamblers, and see how many of them are freei from its 
use. The tramp begging clothes and food often has tobacco 
in his pocket at the time. So with the loafer on the street ; 
in fact, the loafer's employment (?) greatly encourages 
him in forming tobacco habits and others of a kindred na- 



Are; You a Si.avk? 275 

ture, like tJie pale, yellow, sallow, swarthy-looking boy who 
boastfully said, " I can smoke and chaw, too," leaving us 
to infer that he was no ordinary boy ; and he was not ordi- 
nary. Have you ever noticed how many idiots or semi- 
idiots use and will beg and plead for " 'baccer ? " How- 
ever, this vice seems to be " no respecter of persons." 
Many of the high, the low, tiie rich, the poor, the learned, 
the illiterate of all colors, are alike its bondmen, and are in 
this respect brought tO' a common level. Again, many to- 
bacco consumers never use intoxicants {other intoxicants) ; 
but most inebriates also use this fascinating ( ? ), nerve- 
shaking weed — the plague narcotic; and decidedly the ma- 
jority of persons who drink will also swear. So it is very 
evident that tobacco is frequently throwm among rude asso- 
ciates. The weed in every salable form is kept in the sa- 
loon. Why ? For a twofold reason : First, that those who 
drink may also buy their tobacco there ; secondly, often the 
unsuspecting man or youth steps into the saloon to buy noth- 
ing but tobacco, which is there advertised as " cheapest and 
best," and while there is enticed to drink. There seems to 
be a strong affinity between the two practices. Tobacco is 
said to create an unnatural thirst, and to satiate this thirst 
it& victim often takes to drink. 

It has been predicted that the time is near when tobacco' 
fiends will have to take " back seats," as is now being ful- 
filled in such things as the second-rate coach — the " smoking 
car " — in which a really genteel-looking man appears out 
of place. (Look between some of the seats in the " first- 



276 Hearthstonk Echoes. 

class " coach, and you will think there ought also, to be at- 
tached a " chewing car " or a general " spitting car.")' 'Nor 
is the " smoking car " the only place the victims of the 
pipe are thrown in unpolished society. I have seen men 
and women smoking in pipes used by those whose lips they 
would consider far from being suitable to touch their own. 
I have known one woman to ask another for a piece of her 
tooth " mop," which was already stained its full length, 
from a mouth whose teeth were — had enough. (No dan- 
ger of my becoming offensively personal, but it is you I 
allude to.) If she will stand before the mirror and watch 
each movement as she rubs that wet " mop " around in the 
box or bottle, then mops her mouth with it, at the same time 
wondering in whose diseased mouths part of that selfsame 
delicious (?) snuff has already been ; if the cigar smoker 
will visit the cigar factories and see (as I did) the Italians, 
Cubans, and even those of darker complexion, moisten their 
fingers and the outer leaves of the cigar with saliva when 
the glue was too " sticky," surely disgust would overcome 
relish. You say that is too bad to write about. It is not 
half as bad for it to be on the point of my pen as in your 
mouths. I am no harder than truth, and you know it. 
Then cleanse your mouths, you snuff dippers, and purify 
your breath, you chewers and smokers. I have twice seen 
a girl who, in infancy, was permitted to play with her moth- 
er's snuff-covered toothbrush. Result: A slave for life — 
a had one. On the other hand, I once knew a good lady 
who, at the age of seventy-two, voluntarily gave up a long 



Are; You a Si^avb;? 277 

practice of snuff dipping. Ske lived several years after 
this, but never said : "1 couldn't stay quit." friends, if 
you will not give up tlie practice, will you not help open the 
eyes of the young? It is already a parti ally-est,ablished 
law that no smoker is received in certain firstrclass positions. 
Especially is tliis true relative to cigarette smokers. Every 
one of them is more or less injured by the practice, and he 
knows it ; but it is his master. Many such a boy, otherwise 
unusually bright, becomes dull, cannot learn fast, cannot 
remember; hence he drops out of school, grows up to be a 
stupid kind of man, still " dull," with poor memory, nerves 
affected, unsteady hand covered with nicotine blotches ; and 
probably he at last becomes a victim of nicotine cancer. 
Others are dwarfed in stature. (By the way, some one has 
said : " The only use we find for a dude is as a cigarette 
holder.") Of course, nervousness, poor memory, etc., are 
often the results of ailments we know not how to avoid ; but 
when eaused by our own recklessness, we certainly deserve 
censure. Again, many tobacco users are intelligent and 
prosperous ; but can their success be attributed tO' this prac- 
tice ? 

Suppose a check for ten thousand dollars should be of- 
fered you by a party you know to be entirely reliable, it to 
be yows if you completely give up tobacco, but tO' be ret- 
f unded if you relapse into the habit ; would yo'U get the ben- 
efit of the ten thousand dollars ? What do you say about it, 
boy, you who have not yet grown old in the se^rvice of your 
master weed ? If the love of money will induce you to 



278 HE;AR'rHSTON:]5 Echoe;s. 

do right, will not also tlie love of cleanliness and freedoon 
from low bondage? Sueh liberty is a great accomplish- 
ment, acknowledged such by even the young ladies who tell 
you they do not object tO' your smoking. Let me whisper a 
little secret in your ear (but do not tell the girls; they 
would be angTy mth me) : I have seen them make all sorts of 
ugly faces when they would return tO' the parlor where they 
had entertained yofu — ^the parlor, with its mingled fragrance 
of cigar or cigarette fumes and heliotrope or rose water, 
though you never smoked there. They say of another 
friend : " He is such a nice young man ; has no bad habitsi ; 
does not drink, swear, or use tobacco in any fo'rm." 

Many tobacco consumers become exceedingly sensitive — 
doubtless rendered more so by the woeful effect on the nerv- 
ous system. They want us to handle this subject with 
" velvet gloves," if at all. Some of them seem astomshed 
at any one's objeeting to their spitting on the hearth or floor 
or near the churn or on the church floor, though they know 
such rudeness is a gloomy reflection on their mothers — 
on the early training. Some become offended if even gently 
reminded of the cost, though they murmur " hard times," 
say they cannot pay their debts, and stint their families and 
themselves in the necessary comforts of life. Listen ! Shall 
I say it ? The majority of the very poorest people use this 
weed in some form. I know some men who do not possess 
a good hat or a respectable pair of shoes, neither money to 
buy the same, yet who both chew and smoke ; and their wives 
dip, efven if they have to borrow money to buy the deli- 



Ars You a Si.ave? 279 

cacy ( ? ). Supipose the ten-thousand-doUar clieck should 
be rattled before their eyes, woiild they accept, it ? But 
you say the espeoise does no't amount to much, and " it all 
goes in a lifetime, anyway." Man, get you a toy bank; 
drop therein a nickel or a dime or a quarter every time you 
spend one for tobacco — exactly the same amount; the last 
day of the year present the little bank to your wife; let her 
count its contents and use the same to pay your church 
debt or for some other laudable purpose; multiply this 
amount by ten, twenty, or forty — the number of years you 
have thus spent money — and see if the man exaggerated 
when he said he had burned a fine " house and lot," " kin- 
dled in the end of a cigar." " Eut," says one, " I cultivate 
my smokin' tobacker." Yes, you spend a good deal of time 
cultivating and '' worming " your " smokin' tobacker," and 
leave the cabbage for your wife toi " wo'rm ; " but you at 
last buy your " chawin' tobacker," and she sells her cabbage 
and buys her snuff. 

'' I make my money by honest toil, and it's nobody's busi- 
ness how I spend it," you say (temper rising). Look out! 
There comes the " brother'' s-keeper " theory. I thought the 
Lord buried that theory sixty centuries ago. It has either 
all decayed and vanished or else it is petrified. In either 
case you ought to be ashamed to resort to it. You doubtless 
have it in its petrified condition as handed down the ages. 
However, it is somebody's business. We; live in thei same 
community; and it is our duty, as citizens, tO' revolutionize 
and improve society as much as possible, to try to suppres,^ 



28o Hkarthstonk Echoes. 

every unnecessary expense and unprofitable habit. It is 
just as reasonable for you tO' argue tliat it is none of our 
business to try to stop our neighbor from drinking or his 
house from burning. It is our duty to try to assist each 
other over all the rough places along life's road. If you see 
me about to fall into the mud, you ought tO' kindly extend 
your hand or lend me your crutch, and I ought to be grate- 
ful and thoughtful enough to return the favor ; but should 
either of us be sensitive over the mutual aid ? 

My hoy friend — you who have just begun, at least have 
not grown old in, this loathsome practice — I tenderly plead 
with you. When your mother so often kissed your baby 
lips — so pure, so sweeti — she could not realize they would 
ever be polluted with tobaccO' stain. As you grew larger, 
she could readily excuse mud stains on her carpet, walls dis- 
figured with prints of small fingers and hands, parlor lit- 
teired with little treasures and broken toys; but have you 
an;j' idea how sad she felt when she began to shake to- 
bacco crumbs from your pockets ? Being aware that " sin 
never travels up grade," she knew this was a step in the 
wrong direction. She thought ahead and pictured you as 
you now appeiar and will appear later on if you keep up the 
practice. She begged you to^ quit at once, while the habit 
was a mere cobweb. She lovingly cautioned you and rea- 
soned with you, but you heeded not. You thought she 
wanted to deprive you of your liberties, keep you from hav- 
ing a " good time '' or from being like other " smart boys." 
, Attention a moment, please! ]\fy boy, for a few seconds 



Are; You a Si.ave? 281 

lay aside your determination to do as you please. Think, 
think, think ! You know your pareaits have denied thean- 
selves many luxuries and saved money to educate yo'U and 
prepare you for a life of usefulness. Is this the way you 
show your gratitude ? Is it right ? Is it kind ? Will you 
take part of the very money they have kindly saved for 
you, OT that which you have earned an.d should substitute 
for part of theirs, and spend it for what they ai-e pleading 
with you not to use, for that which you hiow will do 
you no good whatever, but will be a disadvantage in vari- 
ous ways ? Is this gratitude ? How can you, how dare 
you, ask them to stand by yoiu and keep' supplying you with 
money, when you give so little heed to their wise couJis«ei ? 
If they kindly supply you greater things, ought you not 
to hearken to' tlieir little requests, especially if they aje for 
the upbuilding of your character ? Do not, be afraid soime 
one will say you are " overly nice " or the only one in your 
" circle " free from this habit. Rejoice in being the ex- 
ception to such a rule. It is only the vulgar and low who 
reproach and scoff at virtue and purity. It is the vulture 
that prefers the decaying carcass ; the eagle grasps at somje- 
thing better. The vulture would like for us all to die and 
be scattered broadcast — brought down to^ his level ; the eagle 
soars over the putrefying bodies and over the vulturei feed- 
ing thereon and seeks only the choicest food. Strange as 
it may seem, one of the greatest barriers to pure ydung man- 
hood is the fear, the seeming horror, of being considered an 
" oddity." That kind of " oddity " is coimmendable — 



282 Hearthstone Echoes. 

sometliing to be proud of. Wake up, my boy! Slumbeir 
not in the tent of tiie fathers. The world is advancing; 
advance witli it. Eaise a high, standard, then try to attain 
thereto. Luck is only effoirt weJl directed. You will either 
lead or be led. Then why not be a leader in good things ? 
^tsTever be leader in evil, for such a man is dreaded in any 
community. It gives him the wrong kind of notoriety. 
God has blessed you with a body to live in and keep clean 
and healthy — a dwelling for yo'ur mind, a temple for your 
souL He has kindly given you a mind with which to' rea- 
son, remember, decide, and store up wisdom and impart to 
others, but not to be converted into a chip basket or rubbish 
heap. Satan will never try to induce you to give up evil 
habits. " Temptations, resisted, are stepping-stones to 
heaven." Trifles make up the sum of life. Little bricks 
laid carefully, one by one, side by side, securely cemented, 
make large and durable structures. Let your character 
structure be made of a good quality of bricks, not of bad 
habits and broken resolutions. A young man often spends 
enough money unnecessarily and nonsensically before mar- 
riage to buy a good home and furnish it elegantly, then 
after marriage has to fall back to his economical parents for 
a shelter for two. Some one advises the girl tO' beware of 
a pocket full of nuts and candy. Very good ; and, girls, 
also beware of the pocket, containing tobacco crtunbs, cigars, 
or cigarettes. Here is a whisper for you. Listen ! If you 
do not try liarder to get that young man to give up iohacco, 
you will, after a wMle, have trouble and annoyance hrought 



Are You a Slave? 283 

home to you; and you ought to, for yoiu are, to a great ex- 
tent, responsible for his using it. You are not half trying 
to induce him to stop. Furthermore, if he will not hearken 
to you now, look out after you marry I 

Young man, be your own master (neixt to the Lord). 
Break yourself loose from the bondage of contemptible hab- 
ite. " Vicious habits, when opposed, offer the most vigor- 
ous resistance on the first attack. At each successive en- 
counter this resistance grows fainter and fainter, until 
finally it ceases altogether, and the victory is achieved " — 
for the wrong. Coleridge " battled twenty years before he 
could emancipate himself from his tyrant, opium." A cer- 
tain man writes that he would " ruther have rumatiz, corns, 
and toothake, all together, than be tormented with this 
hankerin' fur tobacker," after he had " bin a-usin' the weed 
nigh on to twenty year," and tried to quit. He decided he 
had almost every ailment mentioned in the " doctur book," 
but persevered until he prevailed, shook off the shackles, and 
was free. iN'othing short of a moral war of independence 
will release you even now, my friend. The battle should 
be a short, decisive one — not a hesitating between duty and 
inclination. In the latter case wit pleads and fear disheart- 
ens. " He who would kill hydra had better strike off one 
neck than five heads; fell the tree, and the limbs are soon 
cut off." 

Habit is hard to conquer. Cut off the first letter, and 
" abit " remains ; erase the next, letter^ and the " bit " is 
still there : another, and we have " it " yet ; still another, 



284 Hkarthstonk Echoed. 

and. it is not 'H' "totally gone. So destroy it utterly, then 
rejoice in your freedom. An eminent physician advises 
you to give up tobacco all at once, not by degrees. He says 
the first day will not be very hard, but in the evening of the 
second day you will feel " pretty tough." Your memory 
will become doubtful ; you will get things " mixed," become 
sluggish, impatient, irritable:; but you should not be dis- 
couraged, for this only malses known the extra amount of 
stimulant you have been taking intO' your system. He 
adds : " The third morning brings the: tug. ]^ow gO' and 
take an old-fashioned sweat Place an alcohol lamp under 
your chair, three or four blankets around your shoiulders, 
letting the other ends rest on the floor, and sweat until your 
skin is fairly parboiled. You will be just as corofortable 
for one day as you could wish — ^no dryness of mouth, no 
nervousness. You are perfectly comfortable for one day. 
The next day you will b© in trouble again. Take another 
sweat, take a third or a fourth onei. Sweating does not hurt 
people; sometimes it is good for them. Take three or four 
thorough sweats, and go off under sail, and have no further 
trouble from your enemy." Boys, if your will power is not 
sufficiently strong to emancipate you, sweai off the shackles 
of this vice, then never again bei decoyed into such a slavish 
trap. In your boyhood is the time to guard against una:- 
vailing regrets when you grow old. 



Living in the; I^ong Ago. 285 

LIVING IN THE LONG AGO, 

'Tis but folly and madness to sit down in sadness 

And sigh, for the past, when the future is ours; 
Though the way may be dreary and the heart faint and weary, 

We may list for the bird songs and look for the flowers; 
Though life has its losses, its cares, and its crosses. 

The loss and the cross may still be for our best, 
And each homely duty holds some hidden beauty; 

E'en by labor we learn the sweet meaning of rest. 
Thus by pain we may measure the worth, of each pleasure — 

We value our wealth by the wants we have known; 
And joy after sorrow, by contrast we borrow 

A completeness and sweetness fuller e'en than its own. 

The arch, of time spans the jeeterday, toi-day, and to- 
morrow. Yesterday is gone; this is to-day; it will soon be 
with yesterday, then to-morrow will be to-day. O time, 
how precious ! How carefully measured out to us, only one 
moment at a tinie^, and tliat moment taken from us forever 
ere we can grasp another ! Yesterday is dead and laid out 
in its black shroud, witli the twinkling stars toi guard and 
watch; the gentle night queen peeps through tke crevices. 
We wonder where the hours have fled. Many yesterdays 
have placed themselves on record, and " stand as sentinels, 
warning us not to duplicate them." To-morrow stands with 
pleading gesture and says : " Make me better than yester- 
daj." In a short time that same to-morrow will be 
crowded back with the yesterdays; then what shall be iis 
record? Its record must be made altogether in the brief 
to-day, the narrow span that links yesterday with to-morrow. 
Think of the brevity of to-day; think of its importance. 



286 Hearthstons Echoes. 

Horn essential that its work be done in the golden now! 
Yet how prone are we to live in the yesterday or the to- 
morroWj disregarding the golden link that connectsi them ! 
The longer we live, the longer is the yesterday and the more 
are we inclined tO' live therein. 

An aged couple — wrinkled, gray, weak, eyesight and 
hearing impaired — are sitting by a firesidei They have 
long been faithful followers of the Meek and Lowly. Both 
now think they are tired of life, and lo'Ug for thei home 
awaiting them. Their heads are full of good advice, their 
hearts are full of love. They are living in the long ago, 
looking back to the time when they were young. They 
step back, back, back, counting the scores of milestone® they 
have passed by so speedily — seven years more than their 
threescore years and ten. They are young again, each 
around fond parents' knees, among the playful scenes of 
happy childhood. They liear the same birds singing that 
sung in the long ago; they gather the same wild flowers; 
they eat the same ginger cakes, pies, and puddings; to- 
gether they tread again the old school path; hc' gallantly 
carries -her books and slate, and she slyly divides with him 
the dainties of her lunch basket; he' looks lovingly at her, 
and she smiles in return^ each almost too timid toi Sipeak 
to the other; they visit the old log schoolhouse, which is 
taller by far than its wide-mouthed chinmey of clay and 
sticks; they behold again the petrified visage of their old 
teacher, who seems to regard it as a sin tO' smile; they hear 
his deep, stern voice proclaim the ironclad rule : " Go over 



IvIVING IN THK lyONG AgO. 287 

your lesson twice; look at your books^ and not at me.'' 
Afteo* a nine-months' vacation, they enter school again — 
this time to a teacher who rules by love and wins hearts by 
kind words and smiles of pleasantry; they are spending a 
while among the merry girls and boys, but — 

"Ah me ! Those were happy days," says the. quaint old 
man ; " but they are gone^ all gonci. Ah me ! " 

"All gone. Ah me ! " softly echoes the sorrow.-shrouded 
wife. " O, the golden age of the past ! " 

Memory started with them again and stood them before 
the marriage altar' — she, in white satin ; he, in broadcloth. 
The future then revealed to them no clouds; bright pros- 
pects gleamed in front of them. Financial failure was not 
even dreamed of. He felt that with this fair young bride 
by his side he could conquer the world, if necessary ; but 

Life is real, life is earnest, 

and hope is often disappointed. They met with reiverses, 
many and severe, but endured them bravely. They became 
poor, very poor, but not disreputable. They had to work 
hard indeed^ but love sweetened the toil. So' the years 
moved on. 

But these noble pilgrims are still lost in memoiry, still 
living in the long ago. They talk of the " homespun " days 
of their young wedded life until they can almost hear the 
whir of the spinning wheel and the rattle of th,e looim. 
They find themselves picking cotton by the handful by the 
cozy log fire in the humble cabin home, preparatory to the 



288 Heiarthstone; Echoks. 

" big quilting " the nest day, wliicli is to be enjoyed by tiie 
neighbor women, while the neighbors of the more stalwart 
class will be busy at the '' house raising " or " logrolling." 
" Rock, rock, rock ! " g-oes. thei old-fashioned cradle, moived 
by the mother's foot, while the sunburnt fingers are busily 
extracting the cotton seed and carefully putting theoai in a 
little box toi save for the next year's planting in one side 
of the tobacco patch. Memory gently leads them on throiugK 
the time when they petted and nourished and cherished the 
children of their hearts' delight, but — ■ 

" 0, the happy, happy days gone by ! Those good old 
times are gone forever, and we are left. Why ? 0, why ? 
We were happy then, and were very proud. We dreamed 
that we would spend our old age in the loving arms of Oiur 
dear children — wealthy, honored, loved ; but now — ^now — " 

He can say no more. Tears are rolling down his cheeks, 
and a large lump is in his throat. Her pallid face is buried 
in her hands and shawl; her sobs are audible. But soon 
the aged couple regain control of their feelings. They talk 
of the " good old times " and of the sorrowful times through 
which they have passed. In memory they find themselves 
mingling with friends whose heads have long been whited 
by the snows of time or kissed by the clay lips of the grave ; 
their lives have been as a day of shine and shadow^ and they 
are tracing them back and viewing the varied phases; they 
are watching tlie long, dark shadows that have passed over 
the sky of their existence and for the time obscured the 
sun; they linger around the bedside of the suffering and 



Living in the Long Ago. 289 

dying; they are in the slow, solemn funeral procession; 
they hear the cold, damp clods fall over the remains of those 
dearer to them than life; they return to. the home: that is 
bereft, and there find solace in tears and sobs and prayers 
until the pitying angel of resig-nation comes to their relief, 
and, hovering over them, speaks words of cheer. They 
look again — ^by faith this time — and through the rifted 
cloud they see the star of hope ; their hearts feel deep emo~ 
tion : they are resigned ; the rift in the cloud grows wider, 
and they look still farther ; they see the judgment past and 
the pearly gates flung wide open; they see the crowned 
King of glory at the Father's right hand ; they see his beck- 
oning gesture to sainted spirits and hear the welcome: 
" Come home." 

Here the old man lovingly clasps the withered hand of 
her who has always been so true to him, draws her tenderly 
to his heaving bosom, and for a little while they are speech- 
less in each other's embrace. Clouds of sorrow have gath- 
ered thick over their tender hearts, whose deep emotions are 
made knowm by piteoius^ sobs. They have long been think- 
ing and talking over their melancholy condition — financial 
failures, children dead, lonely (0, so lonely!) — pining over 
the " used-to-be," recalling happier days ; but the sweet spir^ 
its of love and submission have united to penetratei the 
gloom, and the refreshing shower of tears has brought great 
relief. These noblei beings find themselves still happy, 
though they thought they were miserable. They are happy 
because, though everything else has been taken from them, 



290 He;arthstonk Echoes. 

they are spared to each other ; happy because they by faith 
can see so- near them the pearly portals of their heia.venly 
home; happy because tlieir heartaches are nearly over and 
they will soon meet their loved ones at the great roll call. 
Together they now sing, with tremulous voices, the half- 
forgotten fragments of a song they used to sing. Into 
memory's half -vacant chamber stealing, sweet visions of the 
past now come lightly as the dewf all. The balmy air with 
music fairly breathes as they hear familiar voices that have 
not lost their cheer. Listen — ^the voices of Fannie, Mary, 
Sam., and John, dear children of their younger days ! 
Listen — the sweet and timid refrain of little Sallie, the 
baby girl ! Hush-sh-sh-sh ! Listen ! They hear the good 
old tunes, and all the house is filled with song. The old 
man leans his head against the mantel, and is soon in dream- 
land. His wife resumes her knitting, but is still lost in 
memory, and at times really thinks she is in the presence of 
those precious children and friends of her life's meridian. 
"No wonder those in an adjoining room often hear her speak 
low (a few words only), as if confidently speaking tO' some 
dear friend. In her soft reveries she reially speaks to them, 
and is aroused, as from a dream, by the cadence of her own 
voice^ Half ashamed that she, forq-etful, spoke aloud, she 
looks around to see if any one is near, then goes on with her 
knitting. 

In a few weeks her needles are carefully laid away; her 
work is done ; she has crossed the turbid sea. Not long is he 
left without her; his lifeboat is now propeUed more rap> 



I^iviNG IN the; " Ye;t-to-Be;." 291 

idly, and he is soon beside her on tJie glory shore. Such is 
life, and such is the hope of the faithful. 

Yesterday is now a part of forever. 
Bound up in a sheaf which God holds tight, 

With glad days and sad days and bad days which never 
Shall visit us more with their bloom and their blight. 
Their fullness of sunshine or sorrowful night. 

Let them go, since we cannot re-live them, 

Cannot undo and cannot atone; 
God in his mercy receive and forgive them! 

Only the new days are our own; 

To-day is ours, and to-day alone. 



LIVING IN THE ''YET-TO-BE.'' 

Although many persons live mostly in the past — ^walk- 
ing in memory the selfsame path which their weary feet 
have long since trodden, while old memories drag their slow 
lengths like " wounded sunbeams " — there is another class 
of people who live almost altogether in the present. They 
let neither faith nor reason take the helm ; they show no ap- 
preciation for past favors, make no improvement as to past 
blunders, attempt no preparation for the future, but seem 
to think of nothing but gratifying present physical wants. 
If the demand of to-day is satisfied — if they have all they 
want to eat, drink, and wear to-day — they appear content, 
and strictly obey the injunction : " Take ... no 
thought for the morrow." If friends have thus far sus- 
tained them, they regard it as only a matter of duty, and 



292 Hearthstonb Echoes. 

they consider God's blessings as merely the result <y£ nat- 
ural laws. They live strictly in the now, regardless of to- 
morrow's debt which they thus incur; they live without 
purpose, as if life were but a fairy tale. Such persons, if 
entirely responsible (sane), are ingrates, too stupid to pro- 
vide for their own households or tO' provide a reepeotable 
shelter for their own heads^ and are tooi indifferent to prfe' 
pare for eternity. 

There is another class of people who travel too fast. 
They go rattling along through life looking too far ahead, 
and stumble over rooks and stiumps at their feet. There 
are many flowers along life's road, but these people do^ not 
see them; there are myriads of beauties that should be 
hunted out and enjoyed, but these fast flyers have no time 
to look for them. In dreaming of the golden future, the 
present is overlooked. " There is time enough yet," thery 
reason, " for observing these little thingSi. Fame and for- 
tune are in the future, and must be obtained ; after that we 
will settle down to life's enjoyments and minor duties." 
Their abode is in the " yetr-to-be ; " but they find mad am- 
bition to be a cruel " reinsman." He drives them with 
whijD and spur; he rushes them uphill and downhill with 
stinging lash; he gives them no time for social pleasure 
with their families and friends, no time for pleasing rev- 
eries, no time for intellectual improvement, no time for 
charitable purposes, no time for church going, no time nor 
inclination to prepare their souls for the great judgment 
bar. Ambition is careful never to remind them that 



IviviNG IN the; " Ye)t-to-Be." 293 

" fame is like crumbling frosting on tlie bridal cakei — hard 
to make^ easy to break; " or that "every kind word is a 
flower to beautify their final home; every good deed is an 
evergreen to mark their resting place ; every noble purpose 
is a bird to sing over their graves." Worldly ambition 
eoiconrages them in striving for as much as possible of this 
world's wealth and glory, never reminding them that they 
might be like the child that would not be^ content with two 
apples in his hand, but, grasping after three:, lost all. In 
this wild rush they lose many of life's choicest tireasuree. 
Part of their wealth takes wings and flies away, but they 
strive the: harder for more. Some of the:ir children, die, 
others wander off into sin ; they grieve over it a little while, 
and make great promises, but soon find themselve:s rushing 
as madly as ever. 

Some persons do nothing thoroughly, but are like the boy 
who works at a trade until he sees about half its mysteries, 
then strikes for higher wages. They are too anxious abomt 
to-morrow, forgetting to do to-day's duties, to fight to-day's 
temptations, to appreciate and enjoy to-day's privileges ; thev 
weaken their energies and distract their minds by constantly 
looking forward to things they cannot seei, and could not 
understand if they could see. " To-morrow will prove to 
be but another to-day, with its own measure of joy and sor- 
row." To-day spent right is the great stepping-stone that 
reaches to-morrow ; and that day, when it comes, will know 
its own task, its own care. Until then let it sleep free from 
worry. If we will be tme to the duties of to-day, we shall 



294 HiEARTKSTONE ECHOES. 

iind new vigor to take the next great step toward heaven. 
We are too much inclined to think it was easier to live 
righteous lives in the peaceful days of the long ago, or would 
he easier in some other part of the world, or will be easier 
when good times come again ; but this is not true ; if we can« 
not live aright now and here, we would never have done so 
and will never do so. These are good times ; it is we who 
are in fault. We forget that we are constantly living away 
the best part of our existence. " To-morrow is golden till 
to-morrow comes." By living right each day, we make 
golden all our to-mo'rrows, also our yesterdays. 

These rushing, future-living people look ahead for earth^a 
blessings, while they are thickly showered around them 
every day. They look to the future for happiness, and 
often say that when this o^r that occurs, or when they do 
thus and so, or attain to a certain position in the social 
world, they will be happy; whereas the roses of happiness 
are perpetual bloo-mers all along their patiiway, if they 
would but stop to pluck them. They look to the future as 
their time for almsgiving, and let the hungry beg and the 
starving die, though they themselves have plenty and to 
spara They say, " Wait until we obtain our fortune ; then 
we will see after the poor ; " but by that time they decide 
they want the fortune extended, and must again wait. 
Again, they say, " Wait till to-night," or, " Wait till to- 
morrow ; " but to-night is next day, and to-moirrow is never. 
Suppose God should give us our blessings only in the fu- 
ture — should always wait until to-morrow or nexti week— 



lyiviNG IN the; " Yet-to-Be." 295 

how many of us would perish for food, for water, for air to 
breathe! We should think of these things oftener. 

We can find joy and hapipiness everywhere, if we will 
look for it and not expect too much at a time. The pres- 
ent hour may look dark, but we will find in it many bright 
spots, if we but clear the mists away ; and as there is a still 
brighter light beyond, we should be happy while we can. 
We need not borrow trouble, neither send out for it ; it comes 
by free delivery. As has been suggested : " The ice man 
calls in the morning and leaves the cold crystal in small or 
large cakes, as we use ; time leaves cakes, chunks, and blocks 
of trouble in the same way daily." We should not ask the 
man to bring us to-day a sufiicient quantity of ice to last us 
a week, a month, a year ; we might not enjoy taking care of 
it So with trouble. " Let us not borrow it ; it might 
grieve our friends when we pay it back." To-day has 
enough vexation of its own, ; it should not borrow from even 
its next-door neighbor, to-morrow. To-day is a great bor- 
rower. It actually disinters many of the troubles long since 
buried in the grave of the past, and uses them again and 
again ; then it reaches far into the future and borrows trou- 
bles that will never happen. Many times it is not to-day 
which breaks the heart, but the darkened past or the future 
without a gleam ; and we can often bring on the nightmare 
of sorrow by brooding and worrying over trouble', either 
past or future^ real or imaginary. Again, we can easily 
expect too much of the future^ and be disappointed. A 
happy medium is always preferable. 



296 He^arthstone; Echoes. 

We see a yoiung couple, not long since started out in 
wedded life. Imagination points thein to a long and happ'V 
existence ahead of them; they fill it with castles of air. 
Thev picture out the road they are going to travel, deprived 
of mud, hills, and stones — life's royal path paved with dia- 
monds and fringed with flowers and tassels of gold, them 
overarched mth silver stars. The young lives intrusted to 
their love and keeping they expect to train exactly as they 
ought to be trained — no failure along that line. They will 
be worthy cr iter ions for the world to follow. " It shall " 
and " It shall not " will be their passwords ; and just as 
they say, so shall it be. (They are living in the " yet-to- 
be.") As the years go by, they almost unconsciously drift 
more and more into the channels made by other parents. 
While their children are small, they are anxious to see them 
larger, more susceptible of the excellent training in store 
for them; then, anxious to start them to school, so as to 
note their marvelous advancement as they climb toward 
young manhood and womanhood. These parents are anx- 
ious for them to emerge from that especial age of tempta- 
tion and danger, anxious to see Avhat remarkable men and 
women they will make, anxious to see them settled in life. 
So this couple, like all others, are always anxious — looking 
forward for something better, for that " good time coming," 
which may never come. 

Later: Their days of youthful streaigth are over; their 
children have reached life's meridian — only average speci- 
mens of humanity, after all. Life has thrown on its gTeat 



Shadows on the; Wai.1,. 297 

canvas both lights and shadows. These parental heads are 
bowed with grief and age, and are still anxiously looking 
forward for that " good time coming ; " but are now look- 
ing beyond the shores of time. The grave soon claims them 
as its victims; their bodies are embraced in earth's cold 
bosom, nnmbered with those who lived in. the lo^ng ago. 

Life passes somewhat thus: To-day is Sunday — our 
life's beginning, infant's prattle; ; Monday — childhood ; 
Tuesday — youth; Wednesday — stalwart manhood; Thurs- 
da}^ — high noon of life; Friday — the evening shadows are 
lengthening; Saturday — old age, decrepitude; Saturday 
night — the curtain f alls;, and we are dead. 

Lesson: Let us live in the past sufficiently to enjoy its 
memories, gather and cherish its lessons, take warning fro>m 
its mistakes, and profit by its experieuces. Let us live in 
the future sufficiently to plan for its success, for all the good 
we can do, and to enjoy all its hopes and promises; but re- 
member that the ideal " good time coming " is reseirved in 
heaven for the faithful. Lett us live in the present suffi- 
ciently to do the work of Him that sent us " while it is day ; 
for the night comeith, when n,o man can work." 



SHADOWS ON THE WALL. 

Do you not remember when, in childhood's hours, we 
made shadows on the wall by holding our heads or hands 
in certain positions between the lamp and the whited wall 
on which the shadows were thrown? Some of these were 



298 Hearthstone Echoes. 

very attractive in appearance, showing tlie profile of a 
smooth-featured face or the shape of beautiful hands; oth- 
ers were grotesque representations of some ugly creature. 
The principal shadow I remember making was the " sheep's 
head," with ears uplifted and occasionally twitching as if 
disturbed by an insect, tongue licking out at times, and 
jaws in continual motion as if " chewing the cud." 

There are shadows of other kinds on the walls of our 
homes — shadows cast by the photographer on canvas or 
paper, shadows representing the ideal features of persons 
we love. Some of these persons are with ua still, and can 
be recognized by their shadows on the wall; some have out- 
grown their shadows, which now^ only remind us of how the 
individuals once appeared; others have passed away from 
the scenes of the earth home, and their shadows are left as 
sacred mementos — cherished relics recalling to our minds 
many scenes and incidents long gone by, and reminding 
us that temporal existence will not last always — that we 
should be ready for the " great day coming," we know not 
when. 

Pulpit windows often display pictures of some of the 
most faithful workers of the church. In the pulpit win- 
dow of the First Christian Church, at Union City, Tenn., 
is a life-size picture, so true to life that those who ever saw 
the original need not look just below to read the name, 
" T. B. Osborne; " they will recognize him at first glance. 
I first saw the window at night; it made no special impres- 
■ sion on my mind — was simply a circular window back of 



Shadows on the Wai,i,. 299 

the pulpitj witli small panes of stained glass encircling a 
large pane. Thougli the half-full moon was sweetly smil- 
ing from without, and mo-re than a score of electric lights 
were glowing within the house, I observed no picture in 
that window until my attention was called thereto. The 
next morning I returned to the church after the sun had 
gilded the east and was spreading his oblique rays over the 
pleasant little city. The picture of Brother T. B. Osborne 
at once attracted my attention — so natural it looked like it 
could speak. I admired, I wondered at the marvelous 
genius that had reproduced on glass a picture with such a 
superb effect. Then my heart was filled with gratitude for 
all the Heaven-born powers and privileges granted to man 
and for the gift of such noble characters as the one whose 
picture is so worthy of a prominent place in the house of 
worship he so much loved and from which he was, several 
years ago, removed by death. I was also present at an 
afternoon service. The day king, having passed the zenith, 
was casting the shadows eastward. The picture showed at- 
tractiveness not seen in the morning. A striking halo sur- 
rounded it, causing a beautiful blending of the small, mul- 
ticolored panes of glass, resembling some ingenious mosaic. 
Just inside of this artistic rainbow effect and surrounding 
the picture was a circle of clear glass, which seemed to 
soften the rays of the midaftemoon sun as they peeped upon 
the audience and gently fell upon the printed pages of 

The old-fashioned Bible; 
The dear, blessed Bible; 
The large pulpit Bible that lay on the stand. 



300 HSAliTHS'TONK ECHOKS. 

As the Sim sunk toward tlie western wave the light 
through the window shone brighter and brighter, until a 
striking brilliance was cast over the church interior and 
over the entire audience. So bright was the light that we 
felt like shading our eyes, yet we continued to admire the 
glorious halo and to discover new wonders in that picture. 
The brighter tlie light, the more distinctly were the high 
lights depicted on those placid cheeks and that noble brow. 
The whole countenance was so radiant it seemed that those 
lips could speak the praises to the God of love, as had their 
original, both in private and in public, so often done. " T. 
B. Osborne," in letters of clearest crystal just belo-w the 
picture, indicated to the stranger him who was held thus dear 
in the memory of that congregation. 

I have been informed that when this good man passed 
away every store, saloon, and business house in Union City 
was closed, and even court adjourned, during the funeral 
services, in which every preacher in the city voluntarily 
took an active part. The funeral procession was one of the 
largest ever known in the city, and the grief seemed uni- 
versal. Everybody appeared to realize that a noble citizen, 
a gentleman, a Christian, had gone from his devoted family, 
from the city, from the shores of time. 

Header, if you ever see that picture, or a similar one, do 
not be content with only one view, but look at it in the 
mild morning light; then be sure to watch it grow brighter 
and truer in the glowing sunlight as it passes toward even- 
tide. Thus was the life of this good man, who, though dead, 



Let Him Tai,k. 301 

" yet speaketh; " and tlius should be tlie lives of all of God's 
children. 

Sometimes, in the night of gloom, we fail to behold the 
attractions of life, because we view them in the Avrong light. 
We permit the ordinary light of the world to obscure their 
beauty; whereas, if we will view them in Heaven's light, 
we will realize their merit. How sweet is the life that can 
bear close investigation, that will shine more brilliantly 
when tested by the great search light of immortality ! 

We are imprinting life shadows upon the minds, hearts, 
and memories of our friends and other acquaintances that 
will last long after we shall have ceased to live. Let us 
try not to let those shadows be grotesque representations of 
evil spirits, but pictures of love, sympathy, patience, humil- 
ity, and right living. 



LET HIM TALK. 

You may get through this world, but 'twill be very slow 
If you don't tell your neighbor all that you know. 
He'll be worried and fretted and kept in a stew; 
His meddlesome tongue will find something to do, 
And you're expected to talk. 

One neighbor will tell you the faults of another, 
Especially the faults of a church sister or brother. 
He expects you to be in same kind of humor. 
And help him circulate the reports of Miss Rumor. 
He wants you to talk. 

He will tell you that sister should be out of the church; 
That this brother has done wrong (for his guilt "we" must search) 
That brother has shamefully treated his neighbor; 
The other gets drunk, blaspheming his Savior. 
Hush, and let him talk! 



302 He;arthstone; Echo^. 

THE OLD WOOLEN SCARF. 

I'm an old woolen scarf, both soiled and ragged. 

The days of my usefulness long since have passed; 
My bright hues have faded, my beauty departed 

(Alas, what short time does the beautiful last!). 
In the days of my " youth " I was bought for my beauty 

By a devoted young husband to present to his bride. 
She prized me so highly; she treated me kindly, 

My stripes of gay colors never trying to hide. 

Time fled. I grew older, as did the young couple; 

I helped shield three children from the wintry blast. 
But became worn and soiled — too much so for duty — 

And into the rag basket was carelessly cast 
For many long weeks I lay in the closet. 

But on winter nights then rag carpets were tacked. 
Running short of material, they drew forth this basket, 

And myself, with the other old rags, they unpacked. 

A huge pair of scissors yawned over me frightfully, 

Then closed their great mouth and dropped by my side. 
My owner was thinking: " Shall I destroy this old treasure — 

A present from my husband when I was a bride? 
Its usefulness is over; I need not retain it. 

Such keepsakes accumulate till they're in the way." 
So up went the scissors, changing me into " ribbons;" . . . 

In the carpet I was trodden on day after day. 

Many years have been added to the age of my possessor; 

I've returned where the grass and the violets grow. 
Time's wrought great changes in this same little family; 

Both pleasures and heartaches have been theirs, you know; 
Yet when in fond memory my owner recalls me. 

Thinks how oft she was wrapped in my stripes gay and wide, 
She regrets having not kept, as a relic of her young days. 

This first present from her husband when she was a bride. 



Thk Mote Findkr. 303 

THE MOTE FINDER. 

This is one of tlie busiest little macliines I know of. It 
finds motes anywhere, everjwliere, and never becomes tired 
of picking at them. It discovers them where we would not 
think of looking, and many which would not ordinarily be 
recognized as such. It finds them in the house or in the 
field; it finds them in books, finds them in looks; it finds 
them in man's actions, finds them on his tongue. It is es- 
pecially gifted in finding motes in the pulpit and in the 
schoolroom: but the one to which it points its long, slender 
index finger most frequently and picks at most earnestly is 
" the mote in the brother's eye." I^either does it attempt 
to extract it, but causes it to stand out so prominently it 
is distinctly seen, regardless of the prodigious beams that 
may be in the eyes of the observer. It embraces every op- 
portunity to display the motes in an individual's character, 
as if expecting high wages for all such work. 

Now, if this small (it is very small) machine would ex- 
tract the motes it finds, it would be of inestimable worth 
(would that the world had such a machine!); but it neiver 
does that. The little " hypercritical critic " seems blind to 
everything beautiful or good. It is a specialist- — sees noth- 
ing but motes, yet never attempts to destroy one of them. 
It seeks diligently till it finds them, then carefully points 
them out, magnifying them as much as possible, until ev- 
erybody can plainly behold them; then goes to work to 
find others. ISTothing is gained by making the little ugly 
motes especially prominent unless there was some provi- 



304 Hkarthstonk Echoes. 

sion made for eradicating them. The mote finder will take 
up a book and carefully point out its errors or blemishes, 
even to persons not concerned in it and to those who would 
not otherwise discern them, thus unnecessarily depreciating 
or overshadowing the good therein contained; then it will 
rashly cast aside a good book on account of a trifling mote 
which amounts to nothing. If it is to expose false doctrines 
or theories, or in any way to be advantageous, this should 
always be done. Many times the motes can hib easily de- 
tected and removed, leaving in the book much that is val- 
uable, if the finder will only call the attention of the 
proper individual. A few persons will kindly do this, and 
such are held in high esteem; but the professional mote 
finder is not worthy of being personified as " he " or " she," 
but, as Sam. Jones says about the dude, he must be called 
"it." 

Young man, how long before you expect to marry ? Ex- 
cuse the pointed question, but I just want tO' make an im- 
portant suggestion to you. You ought to^ begin to correct 
that to7ie at least ten years before you marry, or you mil 
many times unintentionally pierce the tender heart of love 
to which in youth you have plighted your sineerest vows. 
I heard you speak tO' your mother last night in tones that 
pierced as spikes of steel; I saw the color come and go in 
her pale cheeks; I heard the sigh escape fro^m her choked 
throat; I heard her sobs and saw her wet pillow after she 
fell asleep. She did not know any one was near. Will 
you not correct that tone ? 



**Pre;ach The Word." 305 

** PREACH THE WORD,'' 

Preach on, my dear brother; the pure gospel proclaim, 
Converting the alien in our Savior's blest name; 
Influence the wicked from error to flee. 
Their souls from all sin, all corruption, to free. 
Fight on, valiant soldier, till the battle you win; 
Contend against evil, against temptation — sin; 
Let nothing entice you from Jesus to stray; 
In heaven awaits you a glorious day. 

Hold fast the true armor of hope, love, and faith. 
The " sword of the Spirit," which waves over death; 
The shield of all righteousness fold to your breast. 
And press to that land of sweet, heavenly rest. 
Be not " blue " or discouraged, though sorrows attend; 
He who was death's conqueror is also your friend. 
Remember, " all things work together for good " 
To the truly redeemed through Christ's precious blood. 

The Father, in mercy, has promised' to save 
Those who faithfully triumph o'er sin's dark'ning wave. 
Then press on, right onward; the Spirit assures 
That, after life is ended, the vict'ry is yours. 
Though Death will at last his cold fingers extend, 
A victim to grasp you — no pity to lend — 
Yet trust with all fervor in God, who is love. 
Who will give you a life crown of glory above. 



"JACK AT ALL TRADES." 

"A POOK, slovenly woman, living in a little old log cabin 
in the backwoods, was asked as to her husband's trade or 
profession. She replied : ' Well, he's one of these handy, 
gifted sort o' persons, my man is. He can jest turn his 



3o6 Hearthstone Echoes. 

hand to anything. He's a blacksmith by profession; but 
he cooked in a rest'rant in town most o' last winter, and he 
done kyarpenterin' and paintin' all spring, and then he lec- 
tured on temp'rance a while until he got a chance tO' run 
an injine for a month or two, and then he dug wells and 
hung wall paper until he got a good chance to lay brick at 
three dollars a day.' 

" 'And what is he doing now ? ' asked the amused guest. 

" ' Teachin' singin' school; but he 'lows to give it up 
pretty soon and go to practicin' medicine. He kin do any- 
thing he's a mind to turn his hand to.' " 

Eeader, are you as fortunate as that man ? Boys, have 
a profession or a settled vocation of some kind. Girls, learn 
to do as well as to he. A " wall flower " is nice toi look 
upon, but where is the man of reason who is willing to give 
his heart to it? Be such a character that the man who ex- 
chanfires hearts with vou will not decide that he is cheated. 



UNFORTUNATE '*R.^ 

"A little nonsense now and then 
Is relished by the best of men." 

Why is " E " an unfortunate letter? Because it is 

Confined in the cheaper articles — as paper, iron, copper, and 

brass; 
Knows nothing of the valuable stones nor metals of highest 

class; 
Is in no jewel — amethyst, diamond, opal, or onyx of old; 
Is barely found in silver, never in genuine nor plated gold; 
Is crooked, deformed, out of shape, and broken down; 
Corroded, tarnished, cankered, rusty, and brown. 



Unfortunate "R." 307 

He's always in disastrous war, with no hope of calm or peace; 
Is doubled in sorrow; is horrified; has no solid joy or bliss; 
Hungry, athirst, and weary; no chance for quietude, food, or 

sleep; 
Severely crippled in a terrific storm; cannot walk, can scarcely 
creep; 
Is " always in riot, in wrath, and in ruin; 
Never in happiness, love, or welldoing," 

Tired, decrepit, and miserable, enjoying no ease nor health; 
Born and reared in poverty, with no convenience or wealth; 
Always "pressed," "cramped," "embarrassed;" "does not own 

a penny;" 
His "purse strings forever broken," "pocketbook empty;" 
Always " rushed " — in a " dreadful hurry " (yet remains till 

driven away. 
And never comes until to-morrow when a debt he is to pay). 

He never intends to pay his debts; is neither consistent nor hon- 
est ('tis funny; 
He rattles his dollars by the hundred, but is " bankrupt " when 

we need money) ; 
Is a perfect miser, yet invariably " at the door of starvation;" 
Lives like a hermit, discarding scores of friends and relation; 
Is very partial — sees first to the rich, last to the poor; 
And turns away hungry every tramp from his door. 

The girls scorn him and pronounce him " dreadfully green," 
For even a small town or village he's neither visited nor seen; 
"A curiosity," they think; "a runabout, yet has never seen a 
city;" 
Illiterate, careless, "rusty;" neither fine-looking, neat, nor witty; 
Has no taste for the beautiful, sublime, lovely, or gay; 
Is neither handsome nor stylish ("his tie not up to date," they 
say). 



3o8 He;arthstone Echoes. 

Wandering, roaming, rambling; never patient, kind, nor still; 
Makes many a precious promise, not one to fulfill; 
Fierce as an enraged tiger, viper, panther, or bear — 
In ev'ry row, quarrel, disturbance, or disagreeable affair. 

All efforts to polish and make pleasant are vain — 

This cowardly hypocrite, uncultured, profane. 

A fretful old " grunter " — grumbling, suffering, and distressed; 
Worried, angry, miserable, forsaken — severely oppressed; 
Into every trouble, trial, torture, discord, and strife; 
No management, no economy; not satisfied with home or life; 

Unfortunate, from severe tribulation ne'er free; 

Grum, cross, crabbed, and rough as can be. 

Shirks out of all duty; is a sluggard, tardy — never on time; 
Thrice in error, terror, and horror found, and second in ev'ry 

crime. 
Morose, extravagant; in hatred, disgrace, and despair; 
Ready the ripe fruits (not the toils) of others to share; 

Appears perplexed, persecuted, yet will squander and bribe; 

The rogue, the extortioner, with no conscience to chide. 

He's eccentric, unpopular, greedy, nervous, and fearful; 
Discouraged, dishonorable, careworn, and tearful; 
Never decided; has no employment, no occupation — no vocation; 
Yet must work hard every hour — not one minute's vacation. 

He broods over his bitter treatment till he almost goes wild; 

For no kindness is shown him by man, woman, or child. 

He's sour as vinegar; a tattler, backbiter, abrupt. 
Ignorant, repulsive, disreputable, corrupt. 
Presumptuous, overbearing, prejudiced, untrue; 
Ready to criticise and censure — not half so quick to do; 

A proverbial, chronic fault-finder; first in retaliation. 

With no inclination to make compensation. 



Unfor'tunate; "R." 309 

A perpetual dram drinker, a toper — always drunk 

(Oft secreting his rum in his traveling trunk) ; 

Is in jeopardy for evermore, not one moment free from care; 

Has responsibilities greater than it seems that he can bear; 

Is frail, infirm, and gray, with none to pity or to save. 

He'll expire in a desert dreary and fill a pauper's grave. 

He tears up, scatters, and destroys, not attempting to make, 

mend, or find; 
A peculiar, forlorn character, with no intelligence — with no mind. 
Not steadfast, independent, accomplished, complete; 
Ragged, barefooted, frost-bitten, with nothing to eat; 

In the midst of dire misfortune, deprived of justice and of might; 

Imprisoned in utter darkness — never sees one gleam of light. 

Not happy nor contented, he tries to crawl higher and higher, 

At last dropping prostrate into the burning fire. 

Thence into freezing water he'll voluntarily slip; 

Such extremes, of course, assuring him of a yearly return of 
grippe. 
Though not acting wisely, he considers himself "smart;" 
Yet his worst blunders are not from the head, but the heart. 

This burglar, this murderer, in the penitentiary must stay. 
Where he curses, swears, reviles, and " jowers " night and day. 
The crazy old " crank," instead of having the tact of a sage, 
Is a boisterous, jabbering chatterbox, keeping up a horrid rage; 

Is a robber — a Barabbas, Harp, Murrell — on and on; 

Never a Clay, Columbus, LaFayette, or Washington. 

A notorious gambler, though without even a toe or thumb, 
Or common sense enough to be a second-class " bum." 
Very crooked are his fingers, without a single joint; 
So, in trying to play the various games, he can never " make a 
point." 
His brow is full of wrinkles; he has no lips to kiss — 
A queer, irregular character, a curious " creature " this. 



3IO Hearthstone Echoes. 

He can never be a man; has no limbs, body, neck, or head; 
If he had, he could never find a pillow, couch, or bed. 
Rarest fragrance is lost to him, because he has no nose. 
He never sleeps one moment — cannot even nod or doze. 

Deprived of sight, taste, smell, and touch, he can do naught 
but hear. 

O, the many sorrowful stories poured right into his ear! 

He has no hands to feed himself; neither has he feet to walk. 
Deprived of eyes, teeth, and tongue, he can neither see nor eat 

nor talk; 
No mouth with which to speak, or smile, or chat, or sing, or 

laugh. 
(Of this wreck's deplorable misfortunes I have not mentioned 
half.) 
His earth lot is a hard one, and will change never, never; 
He must remain in torment forever and ever. 

If we are in the wrong place, it should give us great alarm. 

Lest it should result in very serious harm. 

We can change our position, however, no doubt; 

But poor " R " is placed there, and can never get out. 

So express your condolence, kind friends, near and far; 

I know you feel sorry for " Unfortunate R." 



My measure is imperfect, but might have been better. 
Had it not been for this unfortunate letter. 



Fortunate "R." 311 

FORTUNATE "R.'' 

When one side of life looks dark, my brother, 
Turn yourself around and look at the other. 

Why is " R " a fortunate letter? Because he is 

Not idle, lazy, indolent; but remains at honorable work; 
Out of vile, wicked company always contriving to " shirk;" 
Envies no one; is not jealous; has no enemy to condemn; 
Treats others as he desires to be treated by them; 

Never opposes nor imposes, but bravely protects. 

And earns far more than he ever expects. 

Never despondent, woe-begone, melancholy, or " blue " 
O'er past mistakes or evils he cannot mend or undo; 
Always merry and mirthful — not disposed to insult or fight; 
Not mad, mean, nor contentious, but " straight for the right." 

Though to outward appearance he is rather rough. 

He was never accused of being a " tough." 

Is firm, determined, resolute; he'll prosper, or he'll try; 
Reliable, trustworthy — never once guilty of telling a — ^I'e. 
None doubt his veracity, fortitude, or worth; 
His industry and energy are strongly put forth; 

Not vain nor deceitful — utters pure words of truth; 

Warns, guards, and encourages the wayward youth. 

Entirely responsible, rational — ^by no means insane; 

Knows nothing of sickness, an ache, or a pain. 

For every malady he carries a real " sure cure " — 

Not patent medicines; they're "first-rate" remedies; he'll insure 
All his prescriptions are harmless — from poison free — 
Nor will they salivate (this doctor will *' guarantee "). 



312 Hearthstone Echoes. 

Far from being a bondsman, be always was free, 
Witb " not a stingy bone in him " — liberal as can be; 
Always at leisure — never vexed, " out of sorts," nor in haste; 
The very center of charity; known never to want or waste. 

Faith and hope are grand indeed, but have no " R," you see; 

So greater far than either of these is renowned charity. 

He has no patience with the fugitive, vagabond, or thief; 
But comforts the troubled and gives the beggar relief. 
Instead of cheating a widow, he completes her dower. 
Then encircles her door with a rich floral bower; 

Neither too " fast " nor too timid, fault-finding nor in debt; 

But the frailties of others he'll forgive and forget. 

Perfectly rested — not dejected, afflicted, nor faint; 
Of his evil companions he makes no complaint; 
His next-door neighbor he does not abuse. 
Nor attempt to cheat others out of their dues; 

Is never a " wolf in sheep's clothing," I'm sure; 

But is honorable, reasonable, upright, and pure. 

Firm, persevering, progressive, strong, 
And in proper proportion — not too thick nor too long; 
Large, matured, deliberate, considerate, and brave; 
Makes a paradise of life, yet shuns not the dark grave. 

His correctness is not doubted — he fills contracts " on the 
square;" 

Is sincere, courteous, prayerful, upright, and fair. 

Is no dude, speaks no slang — is a " silver-tongued orator;" 
Has friends by the score — not a spot on his character; 
Is never intoxicated — takes no whisky, gin, or wine; 
Remains erect and sober, cultured and refined. 

The vile tobacco habit he will readily refuse; 

For he never at any time smokes, dips, or chews. 



Fortunate; " R." 313 

In rewards of merit he's first and central — never is last; 
Has never stood one moment at the foot of his class. 
The more important prize he resolves to obtain; 
Then, if at first does not succeed, will " try, try again." 

His own peculiarities he does not try to smother, 

Yet spends no time finding fault with another. 

He'll escape ev'ry cyclone, gale, and tempest high and loud; 
Is foremost in ev'ry rainbow bright — sees not a dismal cloud; 
In war he's victorious — sure to triumphantly prevail; 
Heroic, fearless, courageous — ^knows not how to "fail;" 

Receives slight bruises and scars in each skirmish, and 
sprains; 

But no matter how he sufEerS;, he never moans nor complains. 

Has a warm-hearted father; a true, tender mother; 

A pure, precious sister; a dear, darling brother. 

He provides for the poor with a heart warm, sincere; 

Helps support orphan children — gives them tenderest care. 

On none of life's duties he presumes to look down; 

Bears the rugged cross bravely — is sure of the crown. 

The richest and poorest alike In him confide; 

He's cheerful, earnest, clever, and on the popular side. 

Girls are proud of him; for he is not " tacky," you know; 

And never scolds, pouts, nor says: " I told you so! " 
Listen, girls! He's not engaged; has not even " got up a case." 
Probably you can capture him, if you have discretion and grace. 

He'll not be managed by a gossiping, contentious wife; 
Will himself be the conctuering "hero in the strife;" 
But he lays the vexation of politics high " on the shelf; " 
So, as an agreeable partner, he'll treat you better than himself. 

He is well versed in poetry, prose, and history; 

And the way he gathers riches is a " marvelous mystery." 



314 Hearthstone Echoes. 

He's a rich " old bachelor " — a millionaire; can marry any hour; 

He gambles not, defrauds not, has great strength and power; 

Is not baldheaded, ugly, deceitful, covetous, deaf, dumb, or blind; 

Dissipated, unchaste, conceited, snappish, ill, unkind. 
Peevish, " moody," fickle, nor speaks in haughty tone, 
But will prove to be a wonderful " power behind the throne." 

Though no dude nor egotist, he charms the aristocratic girl 

By wearing an emerald, a ruby, sapphire, and a priceless pearl. 

He'll never let you famish — will provide pork, poultry, butter, 

and bread; 
Has large stores and fertile farms, besides silver and "green- 
back " ahead. 
However, girls, if you want him, you must be more than witty; 
He requires you to be cultured, prudent, practical, and pretty. 

On his spirituality I might comment much, 
For he passes by the saloon and enters the church; 
Doesn't show himself silly by giggling or chewing gum; 
Is the principal singer — not the man who can only " hum." 

He praises the Creator with every breath; 

May at last be translated without seeing death. 

For each cloud's silvery lining he'll carefully search; 
He is always reserved and respectful at church; 
Never talks during prayer nor passes notes to another. 
Or anything else the good preacher to bother. 

The disturber of worship he reproves there and then; 

Yet if others revile him, he abuses not again. 

His years are not limited, like those of men; 
They number far more than " threescore and ten." 
His fair reputation has spread everywhere. 
Like rare, royal fragrance " on the desert air." 

When time's centuries are all numbered with the " used to be," 

Onward he'll march through eternity. 



Fortunate " R. " 315 

He's a grand reality — not an object of chance; 
Invariably in worship — never goes to the giddy dance; 
Reads no novel or fiction nor uses language obscene; 
Heads the Scriptures; is righteous, consecrated, serene; 

Is no heathen, infidel, skeptic, atheist, or pagan; 

But a brave Christian soldier, with heartfelt religion. 

Slighting not Christ our Savior, Redeemer, Master, Lord; 
Nor neglecting to observe the Father's sacred word; 
Will never see Satan nor his place of habitation; 
Knows nothing of falsehood, foe, or temptation; 

Is immortal — dies not, will not pass away; 

With the redeemed, the ransomed, in glory will stay. 

Is a prominent character — tried, trusted, and true; 

Without him we do not see how we could do; 

He helps spell our earth and its verdure so green; 

Leave him out, and a dilapidated sight would be seen — 
No April to bring warm, refreshing spring showers 
That foretell and precede the charming May flowers; 

No electricity to brighten our homes and streets more; 

No telegrams darting from shore to shore; 

No wire cable to carry words far o'er the sea, 

Girding earth with the freshest information that be; 
Not even a country paper to circulate the news 
And instruct politicians which candidate to choose. 

The grand center of America would be entirely knocked out — 
Every creature, fruit, and flower; rock, tree, shrub, and sprout. 
With all the corn and other grain that furnish us with bread 
And every radiant star that sparkles overhead — 

All these and many other words we could never, never spell 
Without " R," whose wondrous merits I am trying now to tell. 



3i6 Hearthstone; Echoes. 

In many places I could have made my rhyme smoother by far 
By slandering the reputation of my mysterious " R;" 
But he meddles not with the business of young or old, 

And concerning his many virtues " the half has never been, 
told." 

Then from all who dwell beneath the skies 

Let " R's " triumphant praise arise. 



Life has two sides — a dark and a light one. 
We should be sure to look most at the bright one. 
Life is fortunate, or not, somewhat as we take it; 
Gloomy or cheerful, we can do much to make it. 

From one standpoint " R " is an unfortunate letter; 

From another its condition could not be made better. 

If you want to see "R" not in dark, but in light, words. 

Turn, as well as you can, from all but the right words. 

Thus life has enough sorrow, any way we take it; 

Then as pleasant as possible let's try to make it. 
If my friends accuse me of exaggeration. 
Please ask them to view life from a different station. 

I trust you'll not think I'm without solemnity or car©; 
For I, like the rest of you, have a large share; 
But let us look high above it, then some sweet day 
It will be overcome or driven far, far away. 

Let's look more at the bright than the dark side of life; 

At its comforts and promises, not its sorrow and strife. 

You remember the shield (whose story has grown old). 
One side of which was silver, the other side gold. 
The two men who quarreled looked in opposite ways; 
One thought the shield gold, the other thought it gray. 

So life is somewhat two-faced — melancholy, bright; 

We can view it as sad and gloomy or cheery and light. 



Fortunate; "R." ^i? 

Then " about face!" Turn your back on the world's subtle foe. 

Forsake the great enemy, and he will flee, you know. 

The way to give life the appearance of pure gold: 

Stay on the Lord's side, submissive, steadfast in his fold. 
Then the shield will turn to gold from gray 
When the mists of life shall have cleared away. 



Many other words I have adjusted in rhyme 
With mysterious "R;" but I'll spare your time. 
For the patience of my reader may already be weary 
Tracing a double-faced character— so bright, yet so dreary. 
Whoever suggests that this poem might be better 
Must remember I am dealing with a two-faced letter; 

And should he find fault with my imperfect measure, 
He may scan it, arrange it, and rearrange at pleasure. 
If he'll adjust all these words into respectable rhyme, 
I will give him a premium, and plenty of time. 
If he beats me in arranging a " pack of nonsense," 
He may look for his premium a hundred years hence. 



3i8 Hearthstone Echoes. 

ECHOES FROM MAMMOTH CAVE. 

(Revised from articles written for a local paper immediately after 
our return from the cave.) 

LONG ROUTE. 

I. 

The wonderful underground world — so justly the pride of " Old 
Kentucky!" Reader, go with us a while in our subterranean ram- 
bles. 

We stand a moment at the only known entrance. This is said 
to be " where the roof has been broken through, and whose rocky 
fragments, partly filling the subterranean dome, serve as stepping- 
stones down into darkness." This yawning chasm is estimated to 
be one hundred and eighteen feet below the crest of the bluff. "We 
gaze admiringly on the majestic waterfall trickling from the high 
cliffs, supplying drink for the beautiful ferns and nodding grasses 
and reflecting the light of the morning sun. We start down the 
rustic stairway, and begin to shiver in the cave's cold breath. The 
great Day King no longer pursues us with his radiant beams; 
twilight seems rapidly approaching; but — look! — our guide has 
provided us with other lights. Let us wait until he starts again, 
and " where he leads we will follow." 

Our little party being evenly divided, the seven gentlemen po- 
litely carry the lanterns. Being natural curiosity seekers, we 
women make fine use of our eyes and tongues — strange as this 
may sound to the reader. 

As we lose ourselves from the light of day, we feel more and 
more sensibly the strong current of cold air, until, becoming 
chilled, we begin to fear our lovely ( ? ) cave costumes of heaviest 
woolen waterproof will prove insufficient to keep us comfortable 
(this, June 13, 1899). However, this current is only near the en- 
trance; and we soon find the cool cave atmosphere so exhilarating 
we have feelings akin to sporting childhood. It is astonishing to 
think of the rapid progress and little fatigue in making these un- 
derground journeys. We attribute this partly to the convenient 



KCHOKS FROM MAMMOTH CaVB. 319 

costumes, partly to the bracing atmosphere (almost as pure as that 
from Harmon's snow-capped summit), and partly to the mental 
stimulus received from the great variety, novelty, and grandeur of 
the subterranean scenery, which for more than fifty-eight centu- 
ries was unknown to the civilized world. 

The " glorious nineteenth " justly boasts of her discoveries and 
progress as to the many uses of steam, electricity, and other con- 
veniences. Her praises are sent forth in the car bell's tones and 
the steamship's whistle, then carried from shore to shore by the 
ocean's cables, and read by tame lightning's flash. While natu- 
rally enraptured over these, she should not overlook some of her 
smaller, yet marvelous, discoveries, among which is Mammoth 
Cave. Our nation is proud of it, and the gallant old State is ren- 
dered more famous thereby. When she raises a banner to the 
memory of Daniel Boone, by its side let wave a banner in honor 
of Hutchins, that veteran Nimrod, and permit a piece clipped 
therefrom to serve as a bandage for the disabled foot of the leg- 
endary bear that first led a white man into this wondrous laby- 
rinth. Tennessee has her tall, rocky Cumberland, with its Lookout 
Mountain; Florida, her mirrorlike lakes; Mississippi, her grandly 
sweeping namesake; Maryland, her Chesapeake Bay; New York, 
her side of the leaping Niagara; Utah, her Great Salt Lake; Wyo- 
ming, her Yellowstone Park; California, her Yosemite; yet our 
beloved sister State is proud of her Mammoth Cave. 

But our guide, with his double lantern, again moves forward; 
we must follow. On and on we go, unhesitatingly; for we feel sure 
he knows the way, though for a long distance he says but little — 
leaves us to wonder and admire. A peculiar feeling creeps over 
us, since we have voluntarily turned our eyes from the light of the 
world and entered a region of perpetual darkness, but not a feel- 
ing akin to fear. We feel sure no formidable person or beast is 
here to molest us; for that " big iron gate," near the entrance, has 
doubtless been kept locked more than half a century. Unless an 
earthquake should jostle this terrestrial ball, we apprehend no dan- 
ger whatever of the structures giving way and engulfing us; for the 



320 HEARTHSTONE KCHOES. 

whole cave seems upheld by gigantic pillars and massive walls 
and covered by an eternal arch of limestone. For a long way most 
of the passage is very narrow and the smooth overhead ceiling so 
low we have to retain a stooping posture to protect our heads. 
Thus we pass through Hutchin's Narrows, the Valley of Humility, 
view the Scotchman's Trap (a huge rock on corner), go through 
Buchanan's Way, and other places of interest. Some of these nar- 
row paths are walled on each side by loose stones, the work of in- 
dustrious miners in the early history of the cave — a silent testi- 
mony that " their works do follow them." Not soon shall we for- 
get Grecian Bend avenue, where we must walk stooped so low 
our heads are entirely hidden in front of our bodies. The guide 
cries out: "Against the law to deface the ceiling! " So we are 
careful not to bump very hard ( do not want to violate the law, you 
know). Again he cautions us: "Don't leave the path and get 
lost!" (It is impossible to leave the path here.) We are inclined 
to call this and several other low, narrow passages a combination 
of " Fat Man's Misery " and " Tall Man's Misery." 

But here the walls suddenly recede. The pathway leads gently 
downward a few feet; the ceiling is greatly elevated; and we find 
ourselves in the large and most welcome hall of " Great Relief " — 
certainly an appropriate name for the outlet from these Narrows. 
Without waiting for special summons from the guide, we here 
" straighten our spines and enjoy the luxury of a full breath." 

We now reach the Rotunda, said to be immediately under Mam- 
moth Cave Hotel. Sixty feet above us is "the grand arch which 
forms the roof of this immense hall, broken into folds and frets 
of great beauty along the upper margin. The ceiling is one great 
expanse of whitish limestone, unsupported by pillar or column, 
and is formed by the junction of two large avenues which at last 
take shape as one's eyes become accustomed to the gloom. That 
great avenue to the right is Audubon avenue, and will take us to 
Olive's Bower, containing the nearest and most beautiful stalac- 
tites to be seen in the cave. To the left stretches away for miles 
the Main Cave, a wonderful avenue of great height and width." 



Echoes prom Mammoth Cave. 321 

(Cave Manual.) The Britannica says the Main Cave is "from 
forty to three hundred feet wide and from thirty-five to one hun- 
dred and twenty-five feet high," and contains several vast rooms, 
such as the Rotunda, the Star Chamber, and the Chief City — the 
latter with an area of two acres and covered by a vault one hun- 
dred and twenty-five feet high. 

II. 

Soon we find ourselves gazing at a striking example of natural 
mimicry — "masses of limestone hanging down like hams, shoul- 
ders, and sides of bacon " from the ceiling of what is known as 
Bacon Chamber. ' This " bacon " is more densely crowded than in 
most of our smokehouses; but as the large kettle in the ceiling is 
inverted, we infer they do not care to have us stop and dine. Now 
we are in Odd Fellows' Hall, first looking at its lonesome monu- 
ment of stones, then lifting our eyes toward the three large links 
coupled together on the ceiling, distinct as if made and placed 
there by one of the five lonely " odd fellows " (bachelors) in our 
crowd. In an adjacent apartment our attention is called to some 
" doughnuts " on the ceiling. One of our bachelors, possibly won- 
dering if they will be his only accessible food in the Odd Fellows' 
Hall, mournfully asks, "Are the doughnuts baked?" to which the 
guide calmly replies: "I doughnut know." 

Yonder is the Atlantic Cable, another peculiar stalactitic forma- 
tion, resembling a massive rope stretched diagonally across the 
entire overhead ceiling; then a similar representation of the Alle- 
gheny and Monongahela Rivers, as they unite to form the Ohio 
River. We have entered the extensive River Hall, whose subter- 
ranean waters " come no one knows whence, flow no one knows 
whither, and emerge no one knows where." While admiring a 
beautiful cliff sixty feet high, our attention is called to an isolated 
pool, far beneath us, guarded by iron railing. In consequence 
of its sullen water and great depression it is called the " Dead Sea." 
Near here, in 1881, was found a natural mushroom bed, which sug- 
gested the artificial ones in Audubon avenue, which failed for want 



322 Hearthstone; Echoes. 

of proper irrigation. Had they been placed here amid the perpet- 
ual moisture instead of in that dry region, the result might have 
been a fortune to the owner. Soon we cross the noted river Styx 
(about forty feet wide), on the Natural Bridge. Here we first 
really behold the long-heard-of eyeless fish and crawfish — living 
evidence that God has made nothing without a purpose. We also 
find cave crickets and spiders, all of which, like the eyeless fish 
and crawfish, are white and seemingly almost transparent, being 
forever shut in from the light of day. These sightless " little 
folks " are furnished with extremely long " feelers," which to some 
extent supply the place of eyes. In passing, we view the placid 
waters of Lake Lethe, the Mythological Lake of Healing. The 
mud-covered limestone ledges in this region are unmistakable signs 
of high water. At times the cave rivers rise rapidly from torrents 
emptying into them through the numberless funnel-shaped sink 
holes in that vicinity, thus " forming a vast, continuous body fully 
two miles long, varying from thirty to sixty feet in depth." They 
subside more slowly. You naturally ask how a party could escape 
if unfortunately caught beyond the rivers during a sudden rise. 
By sixteen months of hard labor, directed by the manager, Mr. H. 
C. Ganter, a new way (Ganter avenue) has been opened, obviating 
this difficulty. 

We are now making footprints on a beach of fine yellow sand — 
a pleasant change for weary feet. This is the Great Walk of four 
hundred yards to Echo River. The " ceiling " is almost ninety feet 
above, and " most beautifully mottled with black and white lime- 
stones, like snow clouds in a wintry sky. By igniting magnesium 
we get the wonderful effect in its splendor;" and, enhanced by the 
cave's wintry breath, we are made to feel almost like there is a 
possibility of the feathery flakes peppering down into our faces 
from the densely banked clouds. By the same light we have a 
magnificent view of Shakespeare's Galleries — beautiful ledges or 
shelves of projecting stone many feet above us and six hundred 
feet in length; also of the large picture of this great bard on the 
ceiling, so distinctly outlined as to be easily recognized. 



Echoes from Mammoth Cave. 323 

We have reached the famous Echo River, and here is a nice lit- 
tle fleet of flatboats awaiting us. Consider for a moment the labor 
of bringing to this place the material for making all these, each 
of the half dozen boats being of sufiicient size to accommodate 
twenty passengers. For a long time every piece of timber had to 
be brought in by way of Fat Man's Misery. 

Echo River! Long have I heard of it, and now I long for lan- 
guage to describe it, which language has never trembled on mortal 
tongue nor tipped the point of the most gifted pen. The almost 
ice-cold stream does not appear sullen; yet its current is so slight 
scarcely a ripple is to be seen playing upon its placid bosom, ex- 
cept when the guide occasionally uses his long paddle a moment 
in propelling the boat. Most of the time he slightly pushes with 
his hand against the overhead arch or the side of the cave. The 
smooth archway above us is of dull-gray limestone, and varies in 
height from five to thirty feet; while as to depth the water is said 
to vary about the same (from five to thirty feet), its width being 
from twenty to two hundred feet. How delightful this interval of 
repose, while for half a mile we calmly, gently, sweetly glide over 
these pacific waters, feeling no fear, though three hundred and 
fifty feet beneath the sun's bright rays — three hundred and fifty 
feet beneath a spray of grass or any other vegetation, except the 
few slight specimens of white fungus growth peculiar to the cave! 
We feel sure He who planned this wondrous labyrinth can uphold 
its ponderous walls; so we humbly, lovingly commit ourselves to 
His care. 

The marvelous echo over this stream could scarcely be exagger- 
ated — that melodious prolongation and rapid repetition of sound, 
vibrating and reverberating along the various ledges, cliffs, and 
crevices. Wonderful, sublime! The guide strikes the water or 
side of the boat with his paddle. The blow sounds like an im- 
mense gun or cannon, which is answered by another, then an- 
other. Again and again, on and on, it is reproduced, until it 
sounds like armed forces engaged in deadly combat. When this 
has slowly died away in the distance, the guide gives a succession 



324 He;arthstone Echoes. 

of musical tones, wMch intermingle and have a pleasing effect on 
the ear as they pass throughout the dark tunnel. Then follow 
several good old songs by our little party, led by the clear, sweet 
voice of Miss Trice. Though but few are singing, and most of 
them very softly, the sound would indicate a magnificent choir of 
a hundred or more. If a thousand such voices above ground 
could expand their volume in the same degree indicated by this 
little band buried so far beneath the earth's rustic crust, surely the 
vibrations of these same sweet old songs of national renown — 
"Suwannee River;" "Ben. Bolt;" "On the Banks of the "Wabash 
Far Away;" " Old Kentucky Home;" " Sweet By and By;" " Home, 
Sweet Home," etc. — would almost reach the Appalachian Moun- 
tains, rebound therefrom and strike the craggy heights of the 
stony-ribbed " Rockies " with such force as to scatter their melo- 
dies from the tropics to the arctic snows. Do not tell me such 
work as this is not directed by a Hand divine! 

Look! Yonder is a distant light — a landing in Purgatory! We 
do not desire to land there; but if we will follow implicitly the 
directions of our guide, no evil shall betide. Orpheus calling Eury- 
dice from purgatory is here vividly represented by Mrs. Brown. 
It seems the entire cavern is in sympathy with the unfortunate, 
and hands down from clifE to cliff, in plaintive tones: " Eurydice, 
Eurydice, Eurydice!" The ceiling is here so low we have to bow 
as low as possible — almost lie down in the boat — to pass through, 
even in time of low water. The mysterious light is held by a wel- 
come visitor — the man who has brought our dinner; but we shall 
not eat here. On we sail, and soon land at Rocky Inlet. Passing 
through Minnehaha Valley, we soon enter Cascade Hall and listen 
a few moments to the melody of the cascades, whose " laughing 
waters " fall and " break into liquid pearls on the ledges." Pass- 
ing Wellington's Galleries, we quench our thirst at Dripping 
Spring, whose water gently trickles from a peculiar stalactite, 
called, from its shape and appearance, the " Broken Heart." Pass- 
ing through the Infernal Regions, Pluto's Dome, Old Scratch Hall, 
■ Serpent's Hall, Silliman's avenue, and up the rugged Hill of Fa- 



Echoes from Mammoth Cave. 325 

tigue, we welcome a full breath at Nebraska Bend, where many 
years ago the Nebraska Press Association really assembled. "We 
go through Railroad Tunnel. Here confronts us the Great East- 
ern — an enormous stone, the unique resemblance of an ocean 
steamer. 

III. 
We raise our eyes toward the fregcoed ceiling of the justly re- 
nowned Vale of Flowers. " Cleveland's Cabinet and Marion's ave- 
nue, each one mile long, are adorned (at intervals) by myriads of 
gypsum rosettes and curiously twisted crystals." Descriptions of 
some of these formations have been overdrawn; still, we are 
charmed by the striking resemblance of these fair, crystalline flow- 
ers to ttose that bud, bloom, and sweeten the air with their fra- 
grance. Among these gypsum rosettes we find some resembling 
mammoth chrysanthemums, large as a dinner plate, while others 
bear a still closer resemblance to the white lily, with its waxlike 
petals gracefully curling back from its distinct center of yellow. 
As; expressed in the Cave Manual: "We wander bewildered under 
symmetrical arches of fifty feet span, where the fancy is charmed 
by the natural mimicry of every flower that grows in garden, for- 
est, or prairie, from the nodding pansy to the flaunting helianthus." 
Each rosette is made up of countless fibrous crystals, each tiny 
crystal in itself a study. All is virgin white, except here and there 
a patch of gray limestone, or a spot bronzed by metallic stain, or 
as we purposely " vary the lovely monotony " by burning chemical 
lights (of different colors). We admire the effective grouping 
done by Nature's skillful fingers. Here is a great Floral Cross 
(above us), made by a mass of stone rosettes; while floral coro- 
nets, clusters and wreaths and garlands embellish nearly every 
foot of the ceiling and walls." The " Last Rose of Summer," de- 
picted on the ceiling of a large room, is certainly " left blooming 
alone " (like some of the fair maidens of our party). To different 
portions of this crystalline conservatory many fanciful names 
have been given, such as " Flora's Garden," " Mary's Bower," " Vale 



326 Hearthstone: Echoes. 

of Diamonds," "Marble Hall," "Walls of Glory," "Charlotte's 
Grotto," etc. Diamond Gauze resembles the most intricate gauze 
drapery bedecked with myriads of diamonds. You can imagine the 
improvement here made by the magnesia light when you think of 
its effect on an ordinary tableau. The ceiling almost throughout 
this delightful vale is much lo\per than in most of the avenues. 
This seems much more like divine arrangement than a mere " hap- 
pen so." Think of it — the snow clouds on a ceiling ninety feet 
high, so distance can lend its enchantment; while these crystalline 
beauties are so low we can easily observe the intricacy of their 
formations, combinations, and groupings! It is with effort we 
keep our covetous fingers from plucking at least a petal from 
these exquisite formations, but strict restrictions strictly restrict. 
Too much of this has already been done; but, happily, " the sub- 
tle forces of nature are at work to mend what man has marred." 

But what is that? Look! Behold the welcome dinner table! 
Viands of almost every variety, well cooked, and abundant enough 
for a party thrice as large — a fair sample of the excellent fare 
at Mammoth Cave Hotel. "With appetites whetted by vigorous 
exercise and the bracing cave air," we joyously (by no means 
silently) gather around the welcome repast, so neatly arranged on 
a long, high, wooden table by the man who permitted his light to 
" so shine " for us at Purgatory Landing. 

Having dined superabundantly, we resume our wanderings. 
There are gray and white rats and mice in this locality, with large 
black eyes— not blind. They are supposed to go to the outer world 
for sustenance; but when our guide was asked what these little 
animals lived on, he said, " Chestnuts " — that is, jokes furnished 
hy guides and visitors. He says these jokes are essential to the 
well-being of the visitors, for " everybody that comes into the cave 
gets down in the mouth." Here is a mass of large Hanging Rocks, 
one called "Suicide Rock" (it has hanged itself). Now we enter 
Fly Chamber, on whose esiling and walls are "myriads of tiny 
crystals of black gypsum about the size of a house fly." The re- 
' semblance is so striking, and the sight so forcibly reminds us of 



Echoes prom Mammoth Cave. 327 

many kitchens and dining rooms we have seen, it is not our pleas- 
ure to tarry here very long; at least, we will not dine here to-day. 
Passing several interesting scenes, we gaze a moment at a pecul- 
iar stalagmite, termed the "Anvil." Its top bears striking resem- 
blance to a large, brown human face; and the guide positively as- 
sures us it is the head of a man, not a woman. Being asked why, 
he replies: "Because the mouth is closed." Even if it were a 
woman, wonder if he thinks she would keep her mouth open after 
having served as anvil a term of several centuries. Typical of the 
"hammering" received by many a woman all her life, this pros- 
trate figure is being constantly pelted in the face by drops of cold 
water from a giant stalactite hanging above, as if proud that he 
has subjugated her and determined to retain his dominion. Who 
wonders at the poor "creature's" keeping the mouth closed? 

For a long distance we have been treading the treacherous path- 
way, Slippery Elm street, forcibly reminding us of the many dan- 
gerous places in life, where we must take heed lest we fall. Knee- 
high Canyon, or Shin avenue, is one of those peculiar gorges, or 
ravines, washed out by the surging waters, then petrified, and is 
perhaps two hundred yards long, about two feet wide, and just deep 
enough to assure the pedestrian that its two names are appropri- 
ate, rendered decidedly more so by the splintery rocks jutting 
from its upper edges. In treading this " narrow way " we are care- 
ful not to disfigure these splintery borders. 

Into the Flue — a small opening in a ledge above us — the guide 
throws some ignited substance, and the suction is so great we 
hear the roaring as of the best stove flue. Into a similar opening 
he throws, diagonally, a light, which seems to be instantly extin- 
guished. Some one remarks: "The light went out." The guide 
replies: "No; the light went in." In a moment we see it shining 
from another window some distance away. Into one of these ad- 
jacent cavern halls he now tosses a large red light. We watch it 
a moment, then move on. "Look at that Indian camp fire!" says 
one of our crowd. We turn and look "away in yonder " and see 
apparently a large red fire and Mr. Sharp walking leisurely in 



328 Hearthstonk Echoes. 

front of it, seemingly as unconcerned and contented as if he liad 
decided to go into winter quarters there. Through which little 
window he crept, in leaving or returning to the rest of our party, 
I am not able to say. 

Rainbow Walls are striped with different colors, according to the 
strata, but indistinct. The guide courteously announces, " If any 
of you desire to go driving, here are some nails," pointing to about 
a pound of real " eight pennies " lying on a rock. The Tramp's 
Retreat — a dismal offset in the cave — is pointed out to us; but 
although we are now an acknowledged set of " tramps," we care 
not to retreat thither. Look at that large oval pebble, fifteen or 
twenty feet long, called the "Egg" (Roc's Egg). Near it is the 
Table — a huge, flat stone — on which the guide says we may serve 
the Egg. Leaving the wild, rugged pass of El Ghor, we ascend a 
long stone stairway our leader calls "Jacob's Ladder," pointing to 
the " angels " ascending it. Here we enter one of the cave's chief 
wonders — Mary's Vineyard (sometimes called "Martha's Vine- 
yard"). A strange stalactite, three inches in diameter, called the 
" Grapevine," winds from floor to ceiling. "Around it are countless 
nodules of calcium carbonate coated with black oxide of iron, which 
simulate clusters on clusters of luscious grapes (both as to size 
and colors), gleaming with varied tints through the dripping dew. 
No covetous hand is permitted to pluck this subterranean vintage." 
(Manual.) (But we "do not like sour grapes," you know.) Of 
the "wine" (pure water) flowing abundantly from that wall of 
grapes into a large beer keg and into a pool below the wall v»-e are 
kindly invited to partake " without money and without price." We 
do so, and all become intoxicated — not with the juice of the grape, 
however, but with the grandeur of the scenery. A natural-looking 
olive and slice of lemon are imbedded among the grapes, while the 
water from above constantly trickles over them, keeping all the 
crystal fruit looking perfectly fresh and glossy. 



EcHoi;s FROM Mammoth Cavb. 329 

IV. 

We next enter Washington's Hall— a somewhat circular room 
one hundred feet in its greatest diameter. Here we are reminded 
more forcibly than ever that we are treading the path of the na- 
tions; for here are so manj' monuments of loose stones in honor 
of different cities. States, and nations, built by representatives 
from each. Here we erect one in honor of Georgie Robertson 
Christian College, have the name cut on stone, and place on the 
monument a catalogue of the institution. The beautiful Snowball 
Room next gives us a grand reception. In the language of the 
Manual: "Its ceiling is thickly dotted with hemispherical masses 
of snowy gypsum, each being from two to ten inches in diameter. 
The effect is as if a crowd of merry schoolboys had flung a thou- 
sand snowballs against the ceiling, which stuck there as mementos 
of their sport." The grandeur is superb when illuminated with 
magnesium. Next, Vibration Hall, over Marion's avenue. The 
wonderful vibrations are like the roaring of a train or the low, 
sad murmur of wailing winds. The Strawberry Bed (with its 
stone fruit), the Ghost, the Prohibition Platform, St. Cecilia's 
Grotto, the Crucifix, Gumdrop Ceiling, the Mandolin, Popcorn Ceil- 
ing, Trilby's Foot, etc., we must pass without comment, and linger 
but a moment at the Dental Office, whose ceiling looks like a mass 
of extracted teeth. Thousands of names are throughout the cave — 
some, carved with knives or stones; others, smoked on the ceiling 
in " ye olden times " of tallow candles. 

Suddenly leaving this " matchless fairyland," we find ourselves 
wearily toiling up the rugged steeps of Rocky Mountain, anxiously 
wondering how far to the top. We must walk over rocky frag- 
ments tossed in wildest confusion, impeding the progress of us, 
weary, but determined, pedestrians. On and on, upward and on- 
ward, higher and higher, and still higher, puffing and blowing, 
pulses beating faster, faces growing redder — "How far to the top? " 
On we go over multiplied thousands of loose rocks, carefully avoid- 
ing the deep gorges under and beside us. Here is a place steeper, 
still steeper. Up we go by the friendly aid of our guide. Now! 



330 Hearthstone Echoes. 

The summit is reached. Let us breathe. Ample breathing room 
is afforded us in this hall of incredible dimensions — Call's Ro- 
tunda — as large as a good-sized yard. This is said to be not very- 
far from the earth's surface, as verified by large blocks of sand- 
stone, also by the fact that the rumbling of the railroad train 
overhead is sometimes audible. Down Dismal Hollow we gaze and 
throw stones, but do not venture. It looks like it might be 
"haunted." Cleopatra's Needle is a very peculiar stalagmite, 
translucent, and pointed at the top. Here is the Maelstrom — a 
monstrous pit into which the guide permits us, only one at a time, 
to gaze a moment, while he cautiously holds our hand. We are in 
Croghan's Hall — a very long room sixty feet wide and thirty-five 
high, with beautiful Starfish center overhead. This is regarded 
as the terminus of Mammoth Cave. Here we drink from the beau- 
tiful spring whose waters are gently handed down from a cluster 
of large stalactites, one of which is called the " Blarney Stone." 
This we modestly kiss, as have thousands of lips before our own — 
not that we expect thereby to receive the mythological blessing, 
but simply for the novelty of the custom. (Be it remembered, 
please, that each one's lip stains are washed away by the constant 
flow of water from above.) We have been buried from daylight 
five and a half hours, and have walked nine miles. 

Now we start back to where the grass waves near the nodding 
ferns and the bird sings sweetly to its mate. Our guide says he 
"can't tell jokes backward;" so we lose no time until we are 
kindly led into Nelson's Discovery. This diamond conservatory 
you can appreciate only by igniting one of those splendid lights 
and looking above you. See the massive roof teetotally covered 
with sparkling jewels, in places resembling masses of gold dust; 
in others, looking as if thickly sprinkled with small, glittering 
diamonds! We fail to visit that noted "realm of empty dark- 
ness," the Mammoth Dome, which is said to be " as wonderful a 
place as any in this region of silence and eternal night." Accord- 
, ing to the Manual, the ordinary lights of lard oil or miner's oil 
suspended from one of the ledges reveal " neither floor, wall, nor 



Echoes from Mammoth Cave;. 331 

roof of that solemn domain," whose dimensions are estimated by 
aid of chemical lights to be " about four hundred feet in length, 
one hundred and fifty in greatest width, and varying from eighty 
to one hundred and fifty feet, and more, in height," containing a 
" tumbling cataract higher than Niagara, though of slender size." 
The walls appear to be curtained by alabaster drapery, hanging 
in vertical folds that vary in size from a pipestem to a saw log; 
and these folds are decorated by heavy fringes at intervals of 
about twenty feet. Six massive " colossal columns, eighty feet 
high by twenty-five in diameter, stand in a semicircle, flanked by 
pyramidal towers." These form part of the Egyptian Temple, 

From Bandit Hall we wind and scramble our way up and among 
Kentucky Cliffs via the renowned, the notorious Corkscrew, the 
exit from River Hall (thanks to the ingenious hands that have 
constructed wooden ladders leading up the steepest parts). Some 
of the very slender ones of our party furnish amusement for the 
rest by squeezing themselves through a very small and somewhat 
circular window or opening — " gap in the wall " of this monstros- 
ity. It is with considerable effort on the part of themselves and 
guide — puffing and blowing, inching one side at a time. We laugh 
till we cry at the ludicrous scene. One of our number, being some- 
what long as well as slender and " Sharp," in winding among the 
various turns and crevices of the Corkscrew, says he has met him- 
self a time or two; but, not recognizing himself, thought he had 
met another man. Down the rugged, rocky slopes we wend our 
way, and scarcely stop any more until we pass through the Iron 
Gate to the entrance. Here (8 P.M.) we find that Phoebus, as if 
weary awaiting our return, has departed, leaving our good-night 
kiss to be delivered by the twilight breezes. Up the hill to the 
hotel, where we hurriedly bathe our faces, then are invited in our 
cave suits to the welcome dining room, of whose rare treasures we 
gladly partake. Erelong we are in our rooms in the third story, 
embraced in the loving arms of Morpheus, preparatory to our me- 
anderings along the Short Route to-morrow. Until then, good 
night. 



332 HlRARTHSTONS ECHOES. 



SHOKT ROUTE. 

Having our bodies refreshed by "nature's sweet restorer," we 
break our fast and start on our second day's ramble. 

At the cave's yawning mouth we again for a moment watch and 
admire the crystal water as it " trickles down with perpetual 
music " from the midarch, forty feet above, " sounding again 
and again in mimic echoes from the walls and roof around," 
then creeping from our sight through crevices in the floor to join 
some underground companion stream. Obeying the summons of 
our guide, we again enter the dark recesses of this tremendous 
cavern, and for some distance retrace the same Narrows, with. 
their rude walls of loose rocks compactly piled by the saltpeter 
miners of 1812 — relics of that deadly combat. In the Rotunda and 
other open spaces are still to be seen remains of leaching vats and 
wooden pipes in excellent state of preservation, the same that were 
used in partially preparing vast quantities of gunpowder used in 
Ihe War of 1812. A few ox tracks, now hardened into a kind of 
stone, still clearly show the shape of the cloven hoof. It is fortu- 
nate that oxen used by the miners did not have to go as far as 
Shin avenue and Fat Man's Misery. They did not care for Gre- 
cian Bend avenue — did not seriously object to stooping. 

We enter Bat avenue, where in fall and winter the walls are 
blackened by thousands of bats clinging together, like swarms of 
bees, and sometimes suspended in great " clumps " from the ceil- 
ing. It is stated that at a single catch one night, during one of 
their winter sleeps. Professor Call captured six hundred and sev- 
enty bats, most of which were carried to the National Museum. 

Passing the Pigeon Boxes, we enter the Church (about eighty 
feet in diameter by forty feet high), with its natural pulpit or 
gallery (a ledge of rocks about twenty-five feet high). Preachers 
of renown have here talked of the Savior, and large audiences have 
filled these mystic walls with songs of praise. Near this is a real 
' Christmas tree, placed here in 1883, and on it still hang many 



Echoe;s from Mammoth Cave. 333 

cards and labels. Passing many places of interest, we stop and 
gaze in wonder on a number of gigantic stalactite-stalagmite un- 
ions, such as Post Oak Pillar, Elephants' Heads (with their 
"trunks checked," as the guide says), the Old Armchair, Pompey 
and Caesar, and the Pillars of Hercules. The latter is a great 
matted series of columns, whose object seems to be to support the 
world of rock above. All these aged sentinels appear to be keep- 
ing a sharp lookout for the proceedings of their near neighbor, the 
Bridal Altar. They have already witnessed a dozen real weddings 
under this triune arch, beginning with the one in which the young 
lady had promised her mother she would " never marry a man on 
the face of the earth." She was faithful to her promise. The 
guide soon points to splendid representations of hornets' nests an 
the wall, and says: "Hornets' Nests — next thing after Bridal 
Altar!" Pointing to the Old Armchair, he asks us the name of the 
junction of the stalactite and stalagmite. We know not; so he 
tells us: "Mighty Tight." Here is the long, slender, hazardous- 
looking projection called the " Lover's Leap " — doubtless his last 
leap. ("Wonder if the Bridal Altar suggested the name.) Suf- 
fice it to say, it is on the brow of the Hill of Difficulty; and the 
leap, if made, is almost sure to prove fatal. Lover, beware! Look 
before you leap! You had better first throw on the light, then 
look downward, still downward, and behold that " wild and tu- 
multuously grouped mass of rocks " in that dismal abyss, which 
is the landing of a " leap in the dark." I repeat the warning: 
Count the cost; look before you leap! Here is Elbow Crevice — a 
long, narrow opening in " the face of the solid rock." Through it 
we wend our way, single file, probably a hundred yards, all the 
while careful not to mar with our elbows the stone walls, which 
are " wrinkled and folded in many fantastic ways by the waters 
which have long since ceased to flow here." We carefully peep 
into Rebekah's Well; then over the ragged edge into Joseph's Pit; 
then up into Napoleon's Dome, under which is the Dining Table — 
a huge block of limestone detached from the ceiling above. We 
pass many novelties, and at Annette's Dome our ears are greeted 



334 Hearthstonk Echoes. 

by the incessant song of a little waterfall, leaping from a precipice 
of almost seventy feet to reinforce the waters of Lee's Cistern. 
"We pass through the Ballroom, then see a stone resembling a 
woman's profile. The artist has been severely criticised for de- 
parting from nature — Tier mouth is closed. So here is another 
instance in which woman can " keep her mouth shut," even if man 
does have to go two or three hundred feet underground to find 
such a genial companion. He should never regret his efforts, if 
he at last succeeds in getting the one he wants. Young man, if 
you want a companion who will permit you to always have your 
own way and will not " jaw back," come to Mammoth Cave. How- 
ever, you may expect her to keep a " cold shoulder " turned toward 
you; to be very dark; to be a deaf mute, blind, and with a heart 
of stone. Here are the Standing Rocks, which the guide says are 
like certain persons — "stuck up." Listen! The regular ticking 
of an underground timekeeper, the Water Clock — a minute water- 
fall somewhere hidden behind the rocks, where, drop by drop, the 
seconds are counted to us — one hundred and six to the minute. 
(You see? Where woman keeps her mouth closed it seems that 
even time can run faster.) 

VI. 

Some of these avenues wind around, forming peculiar turns and 
angles. In this unique arrangement is found the noted statue of 
Martha Washington, a marvelous illusion bearing a striking re- 
semblance to a life-sized plaster of Paris statue (profile) of that 
distinguished lady mounted on high pedestal. 

To our right is the Giant's Coffin — a monster rock detached 
from the wall and very much the shape of a burial casket. 
Length, forty-five feet; width, from twelve to fifteen feet; height, 
eighteen feet; estimated weight, more than two thousand tons. Now 
we pass the Acute Angle, where this long avenue turns so suddenly 
as to make an angle of only about sixty degrees — a wonderful turn 
for a sweeping river, especially underground. We enter the two 
r stone cottages, roofless, built of smooth, square stones neatly laid 



ECHOKS FROM MAMMOTH CaVE). 335 

in cement, where for a while some consumptives dwelt, hoping 
thus to effect a cure, but only hastening their death. 

Now we are to behold the crowning glory of to-day's walk — the 
celebrated Star Chamber. Seated on a long bench, we quietly rest, 
while the guide prepares for the tableau. Witli our lights he 
slowly disappears into a side avenue, leaving a kind of twilight 
to gently creep over us. Darker and darker it grows. But look! 
Yonder is a star in the distant sky; another, and another; now 
there are many. Look! The miniature firmament is studded 
with these glittering jewels. And yonder is a comet, the first we 
have seen for years. Look how it stretches halfway across that 
wondrous streak of sparkling diamonds, the Milky Way, which 
now is clearly seen in the dim distance! O, what a dark cloud is 
rising! Faster and faster it approaches (but our roof does not 
leak, and we are not afraid) ; darker and darker it grows. Now 
the entire face of the miniature sky is covered. 0, the blackness 
of the impenetrable gloom when every vestige of light is taken 
from us! How cold we are becoming! Our feet and hands almost 
ache; our bodies are becoming chilled. Surely this is akin to the 
Egyptian darkness that could be felt. But no tempest assails us. 
This apparent storm cloud is passing around. A star is peeping 
through the rifted cloud. It is followed by another, and still an- 
other. The gateway of glory has again swung back on its hinges, 
and the star-spangled vault is again gleaming above. What time 
is it? The watches of the pedestrians are with the hotel clerk; 
the guide is gone with his; and the Water Clock we have left far 
hehind us. How can we know the time? Listen! The chicken, 
that faithful monitor, tells us it is almost day. Another replies: 
"Yes, nearly day." Look eastward! A gray streak near the ho- 
rizon! It slowly grows wider and becomes lighter. The chickens 
reassure us day is dawning. The little calf has aroused from its 
slumber, feels lonely, and calls its "ma;" and, motherlike, she re- 
plies: "Ma!" The little house dog is trying to arouse the neigh- 
bors, but becomes too oflficious, receives a blow from his master's 
rod, and goes off howling and yelling. The chickens still remind 



336 Hearthstonk Echoes. 

us day is at hand. It is growing lighter and lighter. Yonder we 
see the rising sun. Onward he marches, and at his approach the 
stars and comet withdraw their light and permit his brighter 
beams to reign supreme. 

With thanks to our mimic guide and with hearts filled with 
deeper gratitude to the omnipotent Giver of all these wonders, we 
turn back from this end of the Main Cave, more fully realizing 
how little we know. If there is such grandeur in this illusion, 
what of the grandeur of the real glory of earth and heaven! 

VII. 
Reluctantly leaving the enchanting Star Chamber, with its 
sparkling vault three himdred feet long and eighty high, we retrace 
.our way to the Giant's Coffin; then through another avenue to the 
Wooden Bowl Room; thence down a rude stone stairway called the 
" Steeps of Time." Here the railing and some of the rocks are all 
the year covered with a snow-white fungus growth, whose dense 
patches of long fibers look very much like the whitest cotton or 
wool. These shreds are said to be sometimes a foot or more in 
length, and they certainly give to the Steeps of Time the appear- 
ance of antiquity. At the bottom of this rustic stairway, entering 
Owl Hall, we are confronted by the rude representation in stone of 
a small owl quietly perched upon a high ledge. Though he seems 
to be sole proprietor of the establishment, and though his visitors 
are all perfect strangers to him, he modestly refrains from asking 
us that impertinent "owl" question: "Who — who — ^who — who are 
you?" The guide eulogizes him, saying: "He is little, but owl 
right." Beneath is a beautiful spring, and the guide claims to^ be 
able to tell exactly how much water it affords every week — just 
to a quart. A surprised listener asks: "How much?" He re- 
plies: "Two pints." 

The Lover's Retreat consists of two long, narrow, parallel ave- 
nues, at right angles with the ones we are traveling, and looming 
off in the dim distance we know not whither. Soon we reach 
what is called the " Devil's Kitchen." When asked if His Satanic 



EcHOBS FROM Mammoth Cave. 337 

Majesty is a good cook, the guide replies: " I suppose so, from hfs 
large number of boarders." 

In our rambles through this wonder world we see various gro- 
tesque resemblances on walls and ceilings— some, in the peculiar 
shapes of the rocks; others, only in outlines— Fat Girl, Hen and 
Chickens (small chick perched on its mother's back), Giant and 
Giantess Tossing the Baby, the Couple Dancing the " Two-step " 
(while Jealousy stands aghast with back turned, as if in disgust) , 
large Stone Face, the Moon, and many, many others. As to the 
representation of special figures and flowers, sometimes the re- 
semblance is very strikingj but at other times vivid powers of 
imagination must be employed — something lake tracing outlines 
.in burning coals or in clouds. "We are now down in the very " Re- 
gion of Pits and Domes; " and since there Is much similarity in 
their structure and appearance, I will make only a general allu- 
sion to a few of the most noted, such as Minerva's Dome, Side- 
saddle Pit, Washington's Pit and Dome, and the so-called " Bottom- 
less Pit," which has been measured at last and found to be one 
hundred and thirty-five feet deep; while Shelby Dome, just over 
it, is one hundred and forty-five feet high, making a pit, or dome, 
of almost three hundred feet. Over the Bottomless Pit is a sub- 
stantial wooden bridge, called the " Bridge of Sighs." It contains 
no hidden trapdoor, as did the Oriental one; but while passing 
over we could scarcely keep from quivering to think of the possi- 
bility of such. These are " vertical shafts that pierce through all 
levels, from the uppermost galleries, or even from the sink holes, 
down to the lowest floor," and are called " pits " or " domes," ac- 
cording to the position occupied by the observer. They seem to 
widen at the bottom and taper off into a conical top, "like the 
steeples of some majestic temple of silence and night." Their 
"jagged walls are fluted and folded in ways indescribable." As 
sanctioned by the Manual, every indication is that this is the bed 
of a subterranean stream or system of rivers, a system of caverns 
having become one intricate labyrinth. The appearance is that 
the mighty billows have carved the granite into natural tunnels, 
spouting horns, fantastic arches, grottoes, and chasms, its roof 



338 Hearthstone Echoes. 

being "decorated here a:nd there by numerous stalactites;" its 
" walls, fluted and carved, as if by some gigantic graving tool." 

Time forbids that we linger. Onward we move, with rapid 
pace, back toward the entrance, the guide not even stopping to 
tell many of his pleasing jokes. Soon we are in the open air again, 
trying to become accustomed to the sultry breezes before walking 
up the hill. We are taking a long, last, lingering look; for we 
must now bid adieu to Niagara's great rival. Mammoth Cave, whose 
marvelous grandeur we can never comprehend. Long in our mem- 
ories will linger its rocky galleries and arched valleys; its knobs, 
sinks, and pyramidal peaks; its Grand Crossing; its miniature 
Niagaras, with their splash of silvery waters; its limpid pools 
that have secret connection with Green River. 

It would be a cold, thoughtless heart that could ponder the al- 
most inconceivable immensity of this underground structure and 
not be more thoroughly convinced of the power of Him who alone 
could stay those massive walls under such wonderful pressure. 

LESSONS. 

Having completed our meanderings through this wonderland, we 
naturally begin to notice the many similarities between this and 
the Christian's earth life. 

1, In both we must have light. "Without it we can neither ap- 
preciate the grandeur nor avoid the pitfalls along our way. In 
both instances we must leave the light of the world and be guided 
by the light especially prepared for us — a light that has been thor- 
oughly tested, proved to be true and steadfast; one that will endure 
throughout the journey. 

2. In both we should have a guide. He should carry a safe 
light, should walk in that light himself, and should be acquainted 
with the way. A blind guide — one who has no light or who will 
not himself walk therein — is not capacitated to lead others. There 
are many " false Christs," or " blind guides;" and " where the blind 
lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch." We should not only 
have a guide, but should strictly follow him. A few weeks since. 



ECHOKS FROM MAMMOTH CAVE. 339 

two boys from Florence, Ala., tried going through a cave without 
a guide, and were lost for two days, to the great horror of them- 
selves and their parents. Many leave the great Source of heavenly 
light and forsake the appointed guide, trusting to themselves to find 
a better or an easier way. Such persons are merely groping their 
way in darkness, liable any moment to be engulfed in the pit of 
destruction. There are dangers above, beneath, and on either side. 
We must watch every way. 

3. " The majority of persons never start through Mammoth 
Cave, and some who start become timid and turn back." (Manual, 
page 18.) Likewise, the majority never start on the Christian pil- 
grimage; and many who start have not the moral courage to keep 
on, but turn back to the world. 

4. In Mammoth Cave we pass through a number of low, narrow 
avenues. In that tortuous channel called " Fat Man's Misery " 
" the walls, only eighteen inches apart, change direction eight 
times within eighty yards, while the distance from the sandy path 
to the ledge overhead averages but five feet. The rocky sides are 
marked with waves and ripples, as if running water had been sud- 
denly petrified." In life we come to many low, narrow places,, 
where we must not exalt ourselves too high nor " spread ourselves " 
too wide, but must lay aside many of our opinions, plans, and pur- 
poses. 

5. "We see many high places we cannot reach or comprehend.. 
These, also, should teach us humility. We must not be self-right- 
eous — be not wise in our own conceits. Many of God's ways and 
works are beyond our comprehension, for even the " angels desire 
to look into " them. 

6. While watching and admiring the grandeur overhead, we 
must look well to where we plant our feet. In the cave we find 
some treacherous rocks, as experience thoroughly convinced us; 
in life we often think we are stepping on safe ground, when — lo! — 
It proves to be a treacherous rock or a bed of quicksand. Let us 
examine a platform before we trust our souls thereon. 

7. Concerning both these journeys the various stories " must 



340 Hearthstone Echoes, 

be sifted with greatest care," for both are often grossly misrepre- 
sented. However, the merits of both can be tested; and the 
stronger and brighter the search light and the more critical the 
search, the more beauties are discerned. 

8. The cave has its vast Rotundas, its Mammoth Dome, and 
even its Chief City — that marvelous expanse, that " largest sub- 
terranean temple in the world," with areal dimensions of two 
acres, enchanted by utter solitude — the Chief City, whose solid, 
seamless arch of limestone, as one great, overshadowing canopy, 
has withstood the shock of thousands of years. Often in life's 
wanderings we see a vast rotunda or some other vacant hall, as it 
were, looming dimly before us in the gathering gloom. We know 
not what to do nor what is there in store for us. for all is dark- 
ness. But look! Our kind Guide steps steadily forward with the 
light of truth, whose rays penetrate the somber shadows and shed 
a glorious halo on the beauties before buried in gloom. Indeed, 
this world is one vast rotunda, whose spiritual gloom is horrible 
until penetrated and banished by the light of God's truth and love. 
Wherever it shines the beauty and grandeur of his handiwork are 
revealed. 

9. The old mushroom beds in Audubon avenue are standing me- 
mentos of man's mistake in trying to cultivate this fungus growth 
in one of the driest parts of the care. In religious matters many 
and far more serious mistakes are made, (And — lo! — "their 
works do follow them.") 

10. Eyeless fish, crickets, spiders, etc. — nothing made without 
a purpose. No use for eyes in an abode of perpetual darkness. 
Actually, a number of blind visitors have gone through this cave. 
Surely they had queer curiosity. (Wonder if any of them were 
•women.) Some church members seem blind to duty — to church 
work of every kind, even to the Sunday school lesson. 

11. Cave fish, etc. — ^not only blind, but white, because secluded 
from light. Many so-called "Christians" are not only blind to 
;their own interests, but are also pale and sickly, because they 
keep themselves from God's light. They are feeble — have no 



Echoes from Mammoth Cave. 341 

strength, cannot endure light. Turn on the search light of God's 
word, and their theories wither away. 

32. Echo River. We should be careful as to what we say, for 
it may be often repeated. If good, all is well; but if bad, ! 

13. The cave, though silent, is furnished with sweetest music — 
vibrations and pattering waterfalls. Often the most quiet Chris- 
tian life has the best influence and is echoed far and near. 

14. The cool, bracing cave atmosphere is of great advantage in 
traveling; so are the appropriate costumes. Throughout the 
Christian's journey he should " keep cool " — be deliberate and con- 
siderate; otherwise his enemy has the advantage. He should aiso 
be arrayed in garments of humility and obedience — should keep 
on the robe of righteousness. 

15. Mental stimulus shortens the way and lessens fatigue in 
Mammoth Cave. Life's burdens and sorrows are lessened by look- 
ing for the flowers instead of the thorns along our way — ^by fully- 
appreciating our favorable environments. 

16. The Snow Clouds in the cave are ninety feet high, while the 
beautiful frescoed arches are low enough for us to examine their 
structure. Thus nature is suited to our convenience; and to the 
thinking, appreciative mind God's arrangements are sublime. 

17. In the cave sometimes our lamps almost go out, and we are 
forcibly reminded of the "foolish virgins;" but our guide trims 
the wicks, and all is well. The Christian's light sometimes needs 
trimming, without which it would go out. 

18. In Mammoth Cave we pass through Slippery Elm street; 
in the church "let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest 
he fall." 

19. In Mammoth Cave we find immense blocks of fallen lime- 
stone, detached from the ceiling overhead. Stones in God's spirit- 
ual temple sometimes actually loose their hold on the flrm struc- 
ture of Christianity and fall, and great is their fall. 

20. As if guarding the dangerous entrance to Olive's Bower 
stands the Sentinel, that grand old stalactite that after centuries 
of slow, but constant, growth has met his companion stalagmite. 



342 Hearthstone; Echobs. 

and boldly, firmly " stands like another Atlas to hold in place the 
•world of rock above." The aged Christian stands as a noble sen- 
tinel, tenderly guarding the wayward and boldly supporting the 
right. 

In after life, as we think of this wonderful cavern, with its 
quiet, mystic walls, fluted by deep furrows; as, in memory, we 
catch the sound of its falling waters, and even hear the steady, 
gentle ticking of its Water Clock; as we hear the enchanting 
vibrations of its Echo River; as we promenade its spacious "halls 
canopied by fleecy clouds or studded with mimic snowballs;" as we 
gaze with wonder on its starry vault and watch the little eyes of 
heaven blinking in beauty, we trust the spirit of love and grati- 
tude may be ours. May we more fully than ever realize our own 
inability and our dependence upon the One whose strong arm 
alone can uphold the ponderous walls of Mammoth Cave. 




Mrs. John H. Meeks. 



What is Home; Without a Mother?" 343 



HOME CORNER. 



[What follows may appear to the casual reader too personal; 
but, as you see, I have placed it last; so, without trouble, you can 
exercise your pleasure as to the reading — may read or omit. How- 
ever, it occurs to me that " Hearthstone Echoes " would scarcely be 
complete without a few faint echoes from our own fireside— with- 
out some expression of the heart's impulses in its calmest, serenest 
moments, also when under the severe pressure while passing 
through the sore trials of life and carrying its heavy burdens. The 
arrangement of the " Home Corner," like that of the body of the 
book, is by no means chronological. Some of the pictures are not 
of recent date. That of Gen. John H. Meeks represents him at the 
age of fifty-six; Mrs. John H. Meeks, seventy-two; "Grandmamma," 
seventy-eight. — Author.] 

"WHAT IS HOME WITHOUT A MOTHER?^ 

That " death loves a shining mark " seemed strikingly 
shown when the home of Gen. John H. Meeks Avas deprived 
of its noble queen. 

June 24, 1820; June 20, 1896 — these dates mark the 
limits of her earthly career, but not of her benign influence. 
Our memories will ever revert to the latter date as one of 
our saddest days ; for on that morn, as the sun began to scat' 
ter his golden rays around us, there was a sunsef in our 
midst ; the sun of our dear mother's existence was steadily 
sinking behind the waves and ripples of life's sea, to rise in 
splendor on the glory shore. Truly, hers was a life of sun- 
shine, spent casting golden beams into the lives of others. 
She was the leader of a large, influential family into the 



344 Hearthstone Echoes. 

good Shepherd's fold^ where she continued in cheerful obe- 
dience until lovingly invited to her reward. 

Mother was not so much a woman of words as of deeds; 
and one of her charming characteristics was the quiet influ- 
ence of her noble life. Wintry winds may strive to dislodge 
the avalanche, and fail ; but gentle sunbeams will gradually 
melt the snows and cause them to forsake the mountain side. 
So her influence, like warming beams, had a melting, sooth- 
ing effect on hearts made cold and hardened by the storms 
of time. Her friends were many and sincere, their num- 
ber being limited only by the extent of her acquaintance. 
Keither did her acquaintances wait until she was dead to 
speak her praises. She was genial, kind, affectionate; the 
life of the family and the regulating wheel in the social cir- 
cle ; always found at the post of duty ; self-sacrificing, wast- 
ing her life for her friends, seeming to have no greater pleas- 
ure than trying to lift the burden and brighten the lives of 
others. Wars might come, storms might rage, friends for- 
sake and foes oppress ; but she was the same faithful, hum- 
ble, loving, self-sacrificing mother, wife, neighbor, friend. 
Much of her time was spent in denying herseK and blessing 
others. She would stint herself any time rather than neg- 
lect any one else, her thoughtfulness of others and forget- 
fulness of self being part of her very nature. She was 
indeed a true heroine. Many a woman has as such been 
made prominent in history, at the same time far less worthy 
of the honor. 

Her untiring devotion for her children was proverbial, 



"What is Hom^ Without a Mother?" 345 

and in them she seemed to find no fault. Without lecture 
or rebuke, she controlled them in a quiet, modest way that 
won their confidence and esteem and made them shrink from, 
the idea of displeasing " mother." (By this sweet name 
all her children called her^ and it was the appropriate in- 
scription on her coffin lid.) This devotion for her own chil- 
dren and for those of us whom " the powers that be " kindly 
permitted to become hers was sweetly and charmingly recip- 
rocated by each, and could not have been otherwise, except 
by a heart grown, cold. JSToted for economy, skillful man- 
agement, benevolence, and charity, her life, as it advan<3ed, 
grew gradually more sublime, the magnitude of her worth 
not being fully realized until she had passed life's meridian. 
Her industry and frugality were largely the cause of her 
husband's success in life, as was for many years freely ad- 
mitted by himself. For more than fifty-five years she was 
his dear, devoted companion ; and now he solemnly realizes 
the meaning of the word " bereft." While in quiet sleep 
she was calmly breathing her last, he, with trembling voice 
and breaking heart, very touchingly said: "There lies the 
darling of my youth — 'Ellie' that sweetest name ever 
called. As she passes away, life to me loses its charm/' 
Yes, dear father, there will ever be a sad vacuum in your 
heart this world can never fill ; and you would not have it 
filled, for you want to reserve it for her memory. The treas- 
ured home will be brooded over by a spirit of melancholy, 
but you have the comforting recollection that you have ever 
been a true and faithful companion ; that she was never once 



346 Heiarthstons Echoes. 

neglected or illy provided for. Late in the afternoon before 
her sweet spirit left ns, the fingers of nature painted a beau- 
tiful rainbow on the heavy, dark cloud in the east, which 
then suggested to me the following analogy, now so appar- 
ent : From you the sunshine of her presence is withdrawa, 
but from the dismal cloud overshadowing your bereaved 
heart there is reflected a beautiful rainbow promise. Try 
not to gaze too much on the dark background, but spend 
more time tracing out the beautiful rainbow tints. " When 
the roll is called up yonder " at the reunion of Christian sol- 
diers, we believe that to the names "John H. and Ellie 
Meeks " you and dear, sweet mother will be ready to re- 
spond: "We are here/' We are thankful God did not bid 
us, " Weep not " (there is relief in tears), but lovingly said : 
" Weep not as others which have no hope." While of the 
eight noble children with whom you and mother were 
blessed, four preceded her to the other shore, four are yet 
spared to love and try to cheer you as you sadly steer your 
lonely bark. To jou the remnant of the voyage will be 
cloudy and drear, and you will feel your task a hard one 
without that patient hand that, with divine aid, so long and 
so faithfully guided one of the oars; but when the gloomy 
mist grows too thick for you to penetrate, you will raise your 
eyes by faith and resignation and look across to the bright 
beyond. 

As the sun, after lending his golden beams to our hem- 
isphere as long as expedient, at last withdraws them so 
gently we can scarcely know the moment of their exit, so 





Gen. John H. Meeks. 



"Our Fathb;r." 347 

was the closing of that precious life. As a glorious, golden 
daj, her life smiled away many of the clouds that otherwise 
would have been almost impenetrable. Even when over- 
powered by heartaches, she would try to drive clouds from 
the hearts of others. She always had consoling words for 
those in trouble. After the sinking sun passes from sight, 
it is reflected back, and a long, sweet twilight ensues. 
Though the sun of her existence has passed behind the bil- 
lows, there is still a beautiful twilight gladdening our 
hearts — the sweet memory of her noble life. 



''OUR FATHER.'' 

" Gathering homeward one by one." 
The sad message reached us that father was dead. We 
hastened to the loved old home. They had carried him into 
the parlor ; and that dear, familiar form appeared as if only 
enjoying sweetest slumber — eyes and lips closed naturally, 
hair combed in its usual way — he looked so natural. His 
death had come unheralded, his sickness having lasted only 
twenty-two hours. He was in his eighty-fourth year when 
the reaper carried away the golden sheaf — a ripened sheaf — 
full of precious grain for the heavenly garner. Thus an^ 
other beautiful life was ended, and the community was 
caused to mourn the loss of one of its oldest and best citi- 
zens. When we gazed on his noble face — so calm, so bright, 
even in death — we esteemed more highly than ever before 
the character he had always sustained: that of a strictly 



348 H:^ARTHSTONK Echoes. 

moral, upright man, whose integTitj was never questioned, 
and whose practical, good sense manifested itself to all who 
observed his wavs. He was emphatically a home-loving 
man. His social life was also embellished bj many noble 
characteristics, among which stood prominent his generosity 
and sympathy. Surely many of the poor should " rise up 
and call him blessed." It was a touching scene at Clear 
Creek Church the day of his burial — mothers lifting their 
little children in their arms so they could look into the cof- 
fin, look the last time upon the lifeless, but cherished, form 
and placid features of him who had been their friend and 
benefactor in time of need ; mothers, widows, some of whom 
had for years depended largely upon him for sustenance. 
The immense audience mournfully, but sweetly, sung 
" Some Sweet Bay," then " God Be With You," while sadly 
passing around and taking the final look at his face. No 
wonder on that occasion so many cheeks, besides those of his 
kindred, were bathed in tears ; for many considered, as they 
said, that " the poor man's friend was gone." For more 
than thirty years he had f aitlifuUy filled the office of elder 
in the Clear Creek congregation- He was regarded as a 
Christian everywhere — in business, in the family circle, in 
everything ; was held in high esteem by all who knew him ; 
was kind and charitable to all, honored as a friend, trusted 
and respected as a citizen. 

For two years he had survived the darling of his heart — 
his amiable wife, whom he adored. No wonder he felt as if 
life had lost its charm. For more than half a century 



"Our Father." 349 

mother had gladdened his life and home; and a gentler, 
nobler, sweeter spirit none ever knew. She was a woman 
of intrinsic worth— a woman of gTeat nobility of character. 
Tenderly devoted to her home and family, she gave herself 
most affectionately to the sacred relations belonging thereto. 
Her energy and industry knew no bounds, except feeble- 
ness of health. She was quiet and unassuming, but faith- 
ful to her trust. Dear, heart-crushed father endured his 
sad trial more bravely than we expected, though he pined 
her absence — poor man !— like a moaning dove bereft of its 
mate. Ever afterwards, although often he could not speak 
her cherished name without a quivering chin and many 
times would weep bitterly, although even at the lonely mid- 
night hour he was often heard weeping or mournfully sigh- 
ing- and speaking that loved name, " EUie," he tried hard 
to be submissive as possible and to carry his heart burden 
without grieving others therewith. Though in deep sorrow 
all the while, his sentiments seemed to be : 

" The night is long, but the day will break 

When the light of eternity, streaming down 

On the cross we bear for the Master's sake, 
Will guide our steps to the promised crown. 

A little while, and the gate is passed — 

Home and heaven and rest at last." 

Surely for this noble Christian pair there is a place in 
that many-mansioned city. The death of each spread a 
shade of gloom over the entire community. In their death 
many lost good friends ; no one lost an enemy. Especially 



350 HEAR'rHSTON]^ Echoes. 

at their home fireside and in the church we look with sad- 
ness on their vacant seats. But they have left as a rich leg- 
acy a good name, a noble example, a record that will only 
brighten by investigation — a spotless character which pen 
need not praise, for it is well founded in hearts and lives left 
behind. Theirs were beautiful and well-rounded lives — 
sheaves ripe and ready for the harvest. They passed the 
last ordeal supported by that beautiful faith which marked 
their course on earth and sustained them in all their trials 
and sorrows. Hope grew stronger and faith brighter as the 
time of departure drew near, for " life's evening usually 
takes its character from the day which has preceded it." 

Sweet memories of these dear old people (my.fondly-loved 
father-in-law and mother-in-law) will ever linger about my 
heart; and I am thankful for my association with them, 
for I feel sure I have been made happier and better thereby. 
Their influence will long live to brighten and to bless. 



OUR OWN HRESIDR 



FIFTY YEARS AGO. 

Just fifty years ago ! The aged winter king, the blush- 
ing spring maiden, and the fruit-laden summer had com- 
pleted their work and had quietly taken their exit, Sep- 
tember, as a kingly sentinel, then stood between the seasons, 
with one hand outstretched toward the blazing summer, the 
other pointing to winter's snows. 




R. P. Mee;ks. 



Fifty Years Ago. 35 i 

Just fifty years ago ! Nature was preparing her rich robe 
of yellow and scarlet, with a background of tinted green; 
her downy sycamore, her black gum, her poplar, her sugar 
tree, her sumac, her golden-rod — her wealth of yellow and 
bown and red enchanted by the mellow September sun. 
Long rows of corn were waving in the sunshine and whis- 
pering secrets to the breezes, while leaves of the locust and 
walnut hung lazily from the boughs, 

"And close at hand the basket stood 
For nuts from brown October's wood." 

Just fifty years ago, in golden September, Eufus P. 
Meeks was born. Seventeen years and one month later he 
was " born again " — born into the great spiritual family. 
A little past high noon on a September day — ^the day his 
years numbered twenty-four — he imited his large heart of 
love with the one he had chosen to share with him life's 
bittersweet ; on another September (two years later) to him 
was first applied the then strange-sounding appellation, 
" papa." 

Years speed away. Each revolution of the hands on the 
clock of life marks his age higher, higher, still higher, until 
to-day it has reached the capital " L." The sun of his ex- 
istence has reached its zenith. He stands upon Zion's walls 
with the sword of the Spirit, and with one hand points back 
to a life spent in God's service, while the other is pointing 
upward toward the crown. From the summit of life's hill 
he looks back through the long avenue of five decades, takes 
due cognizance of the many blessings along the way, now and 



352 Hearthstone Echoes. 

then discerning a somber cloud obscuring them, but keeps 
looking until he sees the silvery lining. Then he turns, 
looks down the slope on the other side, sees shadows and sun- 
shine, joys and tears. Quickly raising his eyes, he looks 
farther, still farther, l^ow he sees beyond the river the city 
of life, the golden gate, the victor's crown, the heavenly 
home — the reward of the faithful. 

Fifty years ago, a babe in the cradle; to-day, a tried and 
trusty soldier of the cross, never, even once, having broken 
ranks or fallen out of line. Time's rushing charioteer will 
speed the day when he will realize he is steadily descending 
the slopes of life toward vast eternity, though I trust many 
more years may be added to his earth life, rich with the 
wealth of the Father's love. His pilgrimage will doubtless 
be checkered with many reverses. I plead with the flitting 
moments to deal as gently with him as he has dealt with his 
family and his fellow-men. May he continue to " scatter 
smiles and sunshine all along the way " of others and gild 
his own pathway with cheerfulness, remembering that " to 
a good man the best things are always ahead," and that " the 
highest rate of interest we pay is on, borrowed trouble." 
Upon the many failings of his own loved ones let him look — 
not with malice or impatience, but vdth pity, and thus 
admonish them in gentleness and affection. If at any time 
assailed by the tempter, may he conquer by a skillful use of 
the Spirit's sword. Walking in the light reflected from 
God's faithful mirror, he may, with tongue and pen and 
Example, continue to check the sinner in his wild and reck- 



Birthday Meditations. 353 

less career bj plainly, peacefully, patiently, persistently, 
and prayerfully presenting the golden gleams of gospel 
truth — the message of " peace on earth, good will toward 
men." May he remain steadfast at the feet of Jesus, mak- 
ing known the Father's love which prompted him to send to 
earth the most exquisite jewel heaven owned — ^the King of 
glory. 

When afflictions fall heavily upon him, may he never lack 
for willing hands to bathe the fevered cheek and press the 
aching brow, or for the glorious promises of Heaven to cheer ; 
and may the evening of his career be a sweet reflection of 
the triumphant day fading into life's gentle twilight. 

" September 18," 1899. 



BIRTHDAY MEDITATIONS. 

Timers great chariot wheel still keeps spinning and spin- 
ning around and around. Watch its spokes flit by our door ! 
ISTow, do you see ? It has completed another circuit, and 
has again placed April on the throne. 

Ha ! It waves at me in passing, and tells me this is my 
birthday. Sure enough, this is "April 25 ! " Leave me 
alone a little while, if you please, and let me reflect. Well, 
be this my consolation : My friends surely will not expect 
much of me when they learn that I was born in April. They 
certainly will not require much of an "April f — 1." I am 
sure they need not, for I realize too sadly that my life work 



354 He;arthstone Echoes. 

thus far has been small, and I fear that when it is all told it 
will still amount to but little. 

IN^ature keeps busy. The buds and flowers of one year ago 
have long since sunk deep into the soil to await this, tkeir 
annual resurrection. The trees that a few months since 
changed their green for gay have since been draped in crys- 
tal beads, and in somber gladness the Old Year has taken 
up his bright inheritance of golden fruit, and, as Bryant 
suggests, has " smiled even while drawing his last breath." 
The 'New Year has stood over the grave of the Old ; has be- 
decked it with dewy diamonds and gently covered it with 
whited shroud ; then has turned from the scene of death to 
begin his life labor. He has already dissolved the icicle and 
the wintry snow ; has drawn the life current from the earthen 
reservoir and placed it in the veins of the dormant trees, 
bedecking them' with green twigs and many-tinted flowers ; 
then has called back the gay-plumaged songsters from a 
snowless clime. 

Let me see. How many times? Yes, nine and forty 
times have I witnessed this great revolution, though the first 
few made no impression on my mind. The older I grow, 
the more rapidly do birthdays seem to come ; and full well 
do I realize the speed with which they have already begun 
to pull me doAvn the " steeps of time." 

The scroll of the future is not yet unrolled. I cannot tell 
whether most of its contents speak of eyes with gladness 
filled or of tear drops on the cheek. Let it remain unseen ; 
it will unroll fast enough. If sadness come, I will try, 



Birthday Meditations. 355 

though with breaking heart, to meekly, bravely bear it; if 
gladness shall be the greater part, I will enjoy it all the more 
for its being a surprise. We are all frail creatures, like 
" leaves borne to earth by the breezes of time ; " but we do 
not desire to have marked on our records^ " Nothing but 
leaves," after we shall have fallen into our silent resting 
places. The dewdrop and the floating bubble are little 
things, yet both reflect the sun. One soon bursts, and is 
gone ; the other sinks into the soil and sends forth, the ear of 
wheat to feed a hungry neighbor. Which shall we be, the 
dewdrop or the floating bubble ? 

Since I think about it, my month is not so bad, after all. 
It drives back the cold March breath and melts, as into tears 
of loving sympathy, the icicles that hang like pendant spears 
from the cottage eaves. My month uncovers the little flow- 
er's grave. The wee beauty peeps out from beneath it» 
mossy quilt, and, with eyes half open, nods to us : " Good 
morning ! " My month brings the humming bird, without 
which the flower bed and the forest glade would be incom- 
plete. My month plants much of the farmer's grain; it 
fills his dairy with rich butter and cream ; it paints his lips 
with ripe berries; and it points him to his smiling fields. 
Would that I could only do as well as my natal month, 
April ! Then it would some day be whispered of me : " She 
hath done what she could." But we are all weak and un- 
grateful. How often we " drown the night in peaceful 
slumbers, then arise in health and forget to thank our God ! " 
How often " we pray for better bread, when we only need 



356 He;arthstone) Bchoks. 

better appetites '' caused hy better work ! Sometimes we 
forget that happiness is like manna — has to be gathered in 
grains and enjoyed one day at a time. We want to get it 
all at once. 

I trust my friends will not think of me as a pouting, dis- 
contented, disconsolate creature, though what I have just 
written may sound like it. I would dislike to be considered 
the fern that begged, pouted, and pined to leave the shade 
and go and grow by the rose. I have never censured my 
God for not causing me to be a man. I find pleasure wher- 
ever I am; have never had to leave home in search of hap- 
piness. If others have more favorable surroundings, prob- 
ably they deserve better j mine are far l»etter than I merit. 
I have all these years lived in a world of good people and 
where there was plenty of ground to grant me a final pil- 
low — a grave. I have always been blessed with good neigh- 
bors and good friends, and I try to search them for their 
virtues, while searching myself for my faults, of which I 
find many. Whereas I see some who may be more pleas- 
antly surrounded than myself, I see many with environ- 
ments far less favorable. I would like to possess more 
wealth — ^not so much the dissolving mammon, but rich coins 
of sympathy, cheer, kindness, and gratitude. I do not know 
that I would be able to endure the burden of riches. I know 
not the strength of my heart in resisting such temptation; 
it has never been thus tested. Perhaps it is best I have only 
had plenty; otherwise I might have been led even farther 
from my duty — might have permitted the love of worldly 



Birthday Meditations. 357 

gain to stand between me and the cross of the Savior, on 
which I am trying to lean. (However, Christ's having said 
man '' cannot serve God and mammon " is no indication 
that he cannot serve God with his mammon, if he tries.) 

I try to keep my heart filled with sincere gratitude for all 
the blessings I receive, and realize they come from a source 
divine. I try not to borrow to-morrow's cares, thus steal- 
ing from the treasury of the gray-haired veteran, Time; 
for " the misfortunes hardest to bear are often those which 
never happen." So I have decided it is better to gather all 
the sunshine we can to-day — to cherish the jewel content. 
I know the trees must bow before the blasts, and so must we ; 
therefore I always try to hold up bravely in hours of dis- 
tress, for why burden others with my own bleeding heart ? 
They have enough sorrows of their own. I try to be cheer- 
ful even when suffering inteiise pain or when my heart is 
aching. May I be patient ; not spend my time fretting and 
scolding and finding fault, but always do my best to crush 
any thorns of strife I see by the wayside and scatter the 
bloom of peace in the path of others while traveling the 
dusty road of time : and by all means deliver me from being 
" moody," which J. G. Holland pronounces one of the very 
meanest among the mean dispositions, and one for which 
there is no excuse whatever. 

It is my heart's desire to always keep a pure record, thus 
never bringing reproach upon onr dear Redeemer's cause, 
and to so live that my precious children may always be in love 
with their mother and so that my devoted husband may prize 



358 Hearthstone Echoes. 

his wife as highly in her sear-leaved autumn as he did in the 
daisied springtime of her life. Even love is not blind to 
faults ; therefore I know my own loved ones can plainly see 
my many weaknesses. I sadly see them myself, and am try- 
ing hard to conquer them. Let my dear ones try to overlook 
them as much as possible, for I do not want my faults hang- 
ing in the halls of their memory for them to sigh over when 
I am gone. 

Would that I could make my disposition mild enough to 
correspond with these pleasant April breezes and with 
April's refreshing showers ! This I am daily trying to do — ■ 
not only by attempting to expel the acid fluids of my soul, 
but also by putting in something to neutralize that which 
remains that is impure.. The best prescription for the latter 
is the love and spirit of Christ, our great Physician. When 
we follow his directions, we need not fear, for he will not 
fail to cure. Neither do we have to wait for the " next 
train " on which the physician " is expected to come." We 
never have to send a message over the wires, wait for it to 
make several changes, and then pay a messenger fee at the 
other end of the line. Every Christian's heart is on direct 
line with the throne of God, and he is always there, receiver 
in hand, as it were, ready to hear our feeble, but sincere, 
petitions. 

Then let us never stop serving him faithfully while we 

live, for we know full well that Heaven's rewards and crowns 

lie beyond the battle plains. 
' "April 25," 1901. 



Yks, Wn Miss You at Home. 359 

YES, WE MISS YOU AT HOME. 

(Parody.) 

(To my absent husband and daughter, who spent the wintor of 
1895-1896 in Florida.) 

Yes, we miss you at home — yes, we miss you; 

Be this your assurance most dear: 
To know that this moment some loved one 

Is saying: "I wish they were here." 
You may know that the group at the fireside 

Are thinking of you as you " roam;" 
And be this your joy beyond measure: 

To know that we miss you at home — 

To know that we miss you at home. 

When twilight approaches (the season 

That ever is sacred to song). 
Then some one repeats your names over. 

And sighs that you tarry so long; 
And there is a chord in the music 

That's missed with your voices away. 
And a chord in each heart that awaketh 

Regret at your wearisome stay — 

Regret at your wearisome stay. 

As we draw up our chairs near the table, 

When evening's home reading is nigh. 
While the lamps gently bum in our bedrooms. 

And the stars in the calm azure sky, 
And when the " good nights " are repeated. 

As all of us lie down to sleep. 
We offer a prayer to our Father 

O'er our loved ones his vigils to keep — 

O'er our loved ones his* vigils to keep. 



360 Hbarthstone; Echoes. 

Yes, we miss you at home — yes, we miss you 
At morning, at noon, and at eve. 

And lingers one gloomy shade round us 
That only your presence can relieve. 

Joys are less invitingly welcome, 
And pleasures less hale than before. 

Because you are missed from our circle. 
Because you're not with us at home — 
Because you're not with us at home. 



THE SEVERED LINK, 

On the united heart wall of my kind husband and my- 
self was placed a chain of three strong links. A mysterious 
messenger visited us ; we called him " Death." He re- 
moved the first link, leaving a broken chain and bleeding 
hearts. A social little band were we, and very happy. 
Perhaps we were too happy in our surroundings, and needed 
that some of our hearts' tendrils be torn from earth by hav- 
ing a support around which they were entwined removed 
to a fairer clime. 

Almost in the same moment we think of George Larimore 
Meeks as a helpless infant; then a fair-faced, brown-eyed 
baby boy, tottering around our knees, with dark ringlets 
hanging over his brow ; then from four to six years old, sing- 
ing a score of songs and acting temperance pieces ; then as 
a little schoolboy, merrily on his way, with book satchel 
across his shoulder ; next, at the age of eleven, lovingly and 
;nanfully yielding obedience to his Lord ; next, as a hopeful 




George l,. Meeks. 



Th:^ Ssv:Eri;d Link. 361 

jouth of seventeen, delivering his graduating " final " on 
the suhjeet he had selected years before, "What I Have 
Written I Have Written ; " next, we think of him at Ken- 
tucky University, associated with brainy men of national 
renown. In one of his letters from there, in alluding to his 
aged grandparents, he said : " The wheels of time have 
turned so smoothly with us for so long we need not expect 
it to remain thus much longer. There will necessarily be 
a change before a great while, but we cannot know who nor 
when." Little did he think he would be the first to make 
the change, and that so soon. We were permitted to give 
him a welcome home greeting, and his prospects for long 
life seemed unusually flattering; but — alas! — ^in less than 
a year what a change ! 

Almost seven years ago ! Yet the intervening space seems 
so short — it must have been yesterday. The May skies 
were fair indeed without, and for a long time love's sun- 
light made it bright within. Almost seven years ago ! Si- 
lent darkness had for hours brooded over our native land ; 
all without was quiet and serene ; aH within was calm and 
still, except the anxious heart throbs of loving friends bend- 
ing over a sinking form. We had often gone in secret to a 
throne of grace and earnestly pleaded : " Lord, ' if it be possi- 
ble, let this cup pass from me [us] : nevertheless [help us 
to say] not as I [we] will, but as thou wilt.' Help us to 
humbly pray : '' Thy will be done.' " We watched our boy's 
calm countenance, unaffected by all his suffering and by 
our manifestations of grief ; we gave ear to his dying songs, 



362 HE;AR'rHSTONE; Echoes. 

so soft and sweet, as if sung for only angels to hear. Mo- 
ments and hours steadily passed, we knew not how. We 
glanced at the window. The sun's cheering rays were 
climbing from behind the eastern hills as an encouraging 
signal that day would soon be here in all its brightness, but to 
the anxious little group his messages failed to give the usual 
cheer. As the golden beams brightened nature, having bid- 
den darkness depart, the deep shadows lengthened and dark- 
ened on our hearts ; for we saw too plainly that the object we 
were so tenderly, lovingly watching was sinking, sinking — ■ 
was fading away. " Papa, what time is it ? " he asked. 
" Fifteen minutes after six, my son," softly replied the 
grieved father. Beads of cold perspiration were standing 
like dewdrops of pearl on that tall, full forehead ; we heard 
the repeated "Mamma, don't cry — ^I'm not suffering one 
hit; " his lips were forbidden utterance ; his eyes ceased to 
turn and behold the familiar faces surrounding him; his 
eyelids became still in death ; his pulse had almost ceased ; 
and, like a candle burning low, we at times would think the 
light was extinguished ; then it would shine forth again, then 
go out. !N"ot a sigh, not a murmur, not a tremor, not a groan, 
not a frown ; and by the time the darkness of night had en- 
tirely retreated and the day king was fully established on 
the throne, the feeble glimmer of earth life had forsaken 
our boy, and a pall of darkness overshadowed our hearts. 
Our family chain was broken; there was a missing link. 
Our hearts were full ; scalding tears would unbidden flow. 
It had never seemed to us that George would die so young; 



The Severed I,ink. 363 

he had always been so strong, so hardy, 90 buoyant with 
hope, so full of life and ambition. Our selfish natures had 
told us we had not one child to spare ; but the same divine 
finger that pointed to the hour hand of his earth life and 
marked its limit, pointed also to the eternal gates of glory 
ajar. The Lord gave; it is his privilege to take away, our 
duty to humbly submit. We must " wait, meekly wait, 
and murmur not." Our boy had much pleasure in his short 
Kfe and missed life's sorrows. 

On his last birthday (when nineteen), he, of his own ac- 
cord, wrote some resolutions beautifully covering the entire 
ground of morality and Christianity. Relative to these 
resolutions, his uncle, M. H. Meeks, vsTote as follows: 
" They are a remarkable production. !N"o one but George 
could have gotten them up. There is a nobility of charac- 
ter in them, plainly visible, rarely to be seen. His mem- 
ory is so sacred and touching to me. I loved him so much, 
so much. I cannot picture a heaven for me without him. 
You know my attachment for him was always singularly 
great." 

George had always manifested a fondness for home that 
was charming, especially for his own upper room. When 
at home, he could scarcely be induced to sleep in any other ; 
said this room was the " spot on earth " he loved best. 
Though then made so bright and cheerful by the sunshine 
of his presence, it and many of its furnishings now only re- 
mind us that he once was there. His trunk still contains 
many relics he so highly prized — keepsakes he regarded as 



364 Hearthstone Echoes. 

almost sacred. In his bookcase are the books marking his 
extensive course of study; there is his bed, unoccupied; 
there, by the door, is the same brick bearing his initials, 
" G. L. M ; " on the mantel is a mirror he neatly framed, 
and a picture of our home, with the little family group, he 
one of the number. But there is a cold stillness in that 
room, and the passing breezes without seem to catch the 
impulse of a maternal heart and sadly repeat : " The loved 
occupant is gone, gone ! " His familiar footfalls have for- 
saken the stairway; we miss him from his accustomed seat 
at the dining table and around the family hearthstone ; we 
miss his cheerful companionship, his merry laugh, and his 
musical touch on the piano keys. His unusual fondness 
for music had developed into decided talent for the same, 
and during the last year or two he composed many beauti- 
ful little instrumental airs, among them " Variations of 
Happy Day " — the first song he ever sung. Two or three 
times during the first week of his illness he slipped out of 
bed and into the parlor to the piano, and played with re- 
markable sweetness. One of the last songs he sung and 
played was "A Boy's Best Friend is His Mother." 'Now, 
when we assemble in the parlor to hear music made by our 
children, one of our little home band is sadly missing — no 
George there now to play with his devoted sister those beau- 
tiful duets ; no George to aid in the music, to which his very 
fingers and breath seemed tuned. He had looked forward 
'with much anxiety to the time when he should be "twenty- 



The Seve;re;d IvInk. 365 

one;" had planned great achievements, and thought it 
would be a wonderful thing to be a man. 

He always had an eye for the beautiful, and was a great 
lover of nature. He called flowers " babies " before old 
enough to speak their names. During his sickness kind 
friends tenderly remembered him with floral tributes, for 
which he never failed to express his appreciation ; and when 
laid in his coffin, hands of love gently and gracefully placed 
therein a modest wreath about his head and left many beau- 
tiful garlands to fade and wither on his grave. Do we miss 
him? We sadly miss him; but there is a sweetness con- 
nected with his memory we would not willingly lose, bright- 
ened by the assurance that as a Christian he was faithful to 
his trust. 

The great calendar has made seven circuits, but I still 
often imagine he is only off on a visit, soon to return ; and 
when something seems to whisper to me, " George is dead ! " 
a strange kind of chill creeps over me, and I feel like my 
heart will sink. During the three weeks of his serious ill- 
ness (typhoid fever), I scarcely lost consciousness in sleep. 
When I would close my eyes and try to relieve my mind of 
maternal anxiety, I would imagine I was rubbing the hands 
and arms of my poor, sick boy or preparing his medicine, 
when the sweet cadence of his plaintive, manly voice, trem- 
bling from weakness, would reach my ears, saying: " Mam- 
ma ! " All inclination to sleep would instantly depart, and 
the next moment would find me at his side. Those three 



366 HE;ARTHSTON:e Echoes. 

weeks still seem to me like a dream; the departure of our 
child, like a frightful nightmare. 

Life itself is somewhat like a dream — eternity, the great 
awakening ; and — O ! — ^when this dream life is over and the 
angel's trump shall arouse the sleeping millions, only imagine 
what a glad awakening, and ^^ what a gathering of the f aith- 
ful that will be!" 



WEDDING BELLS, 

Listen ! We hear the peals of wedding bells. Who ? 
O, who ? Is it a couple from afar ? They say not. Are 
some of our neighbors going to marry ? Come nearer our 
home, still nearer, and ask again; come under the shadow, 
of our own roof; come to our own fireside, to our own, 
bosoms, to our hearts throbbing with parental devotion. 
Here you will find a darling of our lives — a brother's loving 
sister, a, " mamma's " companion-daughter, a " papa's " 
precious treasure. She it is who is about to link her des- 
tiny with another. Can this be ? Is it possible our only 
daughter — ^the one we have watched and nourished with 
such tender devotion, the one upon whom we have lavished 
our impartial love — is it possible she is so soon to become a 
bride ? But this is part of life. Jean Ingelow pathet- 
ically says a mother's lot is 

" To love, to nurse, to rear, 

To watch, and then to lose — 
To see her loved ones disappear;" 




Mr. and Mrs. W. H. Bai,dy, 



Wedding Beli^. 3^7 

while 

" To hear, to heed, to wed, 

Is the fair lot that maidens choose." 

Winter is now enthroned as king of seasons, and has ap- 
pointed December (1899) as ruler over this division of his 
kingdom. December has appointed his thirty-one subjects 
to stand on duty, one by one ; and six of them, having com- 
pleted their work, have retired from' service. Winter has 
not yet donned his snow-tipped crown, nor raised his harsh 
voice, nor pierced our natures with his icy breath. He 
seems to be kindly waiting in behalf of the parties most 
deeply interested in those ^vedding bells I now hear. The 
days continue cool, but pleasant. True, the autumn frost 
has searched through garden and woodland, has gathered 
the flowers into the soil to await another awakening; but 
hands of love, anticipating this occasion, have beautified 
the church with lace curtains, evergreens, and mammoth 
chrysanthemums ; with " blushing buds from cupid's bow- 
ers and trailing vines from wonderland." A large bell of 
holly, dotted with roses and deeply fringed with its own 
beads of coral, hangs just under the bridal arch. Inside 
this mammoth bell is suspended a small, sweet-toned bell of 
sterling silver, to which is attached a bolt of ribbon. A 
charming little girl in white is to stand near, gently pulling 
the ribbon, causing the little bell to modestly ring forth its 
soft, silver chimes, mingling and keeping time with the 
other music of the wedding march, and continuing while 
" Brother Freed " shall speak the words that unite the twain. 



368 Hkarthstonk Echoes. 

But listen again ! The church bell is still ringing, while 
I muse. Listen to its plaintive vibrations wafted to us by 
the cool evening breezes ! What is the language of those 
vibrations ? What do thej say ? Give ear while they 
speak to us. Listen ! Do you understand them ? I do, 
distinctly. To the young lovers of merriment they bring 
a thrill of joy, for they tell of '^' sometliing to go to." To 
the eight couples of attendants they are vivid predictions 
of the time to which they look forward with bright anticipa- 
tion, when tJiey will be the ones most interested in the wed- 
ding bells ; to the young couple to be made one they bring 
a feeling none but that couple can know and which they 
cannot describe. To them these thrilling peals tell of the 
past, present, and future almost as one. They whisp«r to 
them in love and tremulous emotion ; they tell of apprecia- 
tion and hope; they recall to mind the many earnest talks 
of the two young lovers ; they point them to their future des- 
tinies, building for them many lofty and beautiful "air 
castles," with now and then, a light cloud intervening. To 
the fond parents they bring a strange feeling of mingled 
resignation and sadness — sadness at the thought of their 
only daughter's being placed so strongly on the claims of an- 
other, yet resignation at the consoling thought that, instead 
of becoming " unequally yoked with an unbeliever," she is 
uniting her destiny with another consistent branch of the 
" true vine " — with a young man free from evil habits, and 
one we feel sure will ever love, cherish, and protect her. 
To the keen insight of parental love these melancholy chimes 



Who'IvI. BE) NiexT? 369 

announce the death of boyhood and girlhood and tell of 
duties and responsibilities the young' couple have searcely 
thought of. 

Peering into the mystic future, they reveal the many- 
tinted pictures hanging in the halls of the heart — pictures 
of joy and sorrow, smiles and tears. Then parental love 
pierces the gloom; hope, in dovelike innocence, strews the 
pathway of this young couple with roses of peace and con- 
tentment ; and faith sees them at last safe together in the 
blessed beyond. Such is the message of the " wedding 
bells." 



WHO'LL BE NEXT? 

Who'll be the next to cross the river 
That flows between us and that home? 

Who'll be the next among our loved ones 
To answer to the summons: "Come?" 

Shall I be next? O, blessed Father, 
May I but say: " Thy will be done!" 

Thou knowest best, thou judgest rightly; 
May my will and thine own be one. 

Shall father, mother, sister, brother, 
Sweet children, or companion dear? 

O Father, bless the ones left weeping! 
May thy word be their constant cheer. 

Those left behind not long will linger; 

From toils of life we'll soon be free. 
Let's be prepared to safely anchor 

Beyond the bright, the "Jasper Sea." 



370 He;artmstone Echoes. 

THE FAMILY WHEEL. 

A LITTLE babe — how frail, how helpless ! Even when 
in perfect health it is almost as delicate as a snowdrop. 
What tender nursing, what vigilant attention in bringing 
it where it will be, even in a measure, seK-reliant ! Yet 
with what pleasure is this care bestowed by the fond par- 
ents, who feel themselves doubly paid by the dovelike " coo- 
ing " and by the smiles and prattle of baby love ! 

Three bright little cherubs were ours to make smiles 
around our hearthstone. The first proved to be a "l>oy" 
in the true sense of the word — a boy full of life, with large 
heart, mind, and principle ; a boy bright for study and keen 
for play. Our next (three years younger) was a blue-eyed 
baby girl, whose hair hung thick wdth many a glossy curl, 
and we called her our precious, priceless "Pearle." Five 
years later came another baby boy — in appearance, a 
" goodly child ; " in disposition, lively, affectionate, and 
true. These three, with their papa, manuma, and dear old 
"grandmamma," constituted our little family wheel; and 
for several years it turned gently and smoothly, with 
scarcely a jostle. 

Moments fast grew into years. At nineteen our older 
boy w^as seized by an unfriendly fever. We gave him every 
attention ; but, in spite of care and love and art and medi- 
cine, he seemed to be slipping away from us. We saw the 
inevitable drawing near; we steeled ourselves to bear the 
blow; those three devoted, silver-haired grandparents wore 
, solemn faces and wiped large tear drops from their furrowed 



The FamiIvY Wheei,. 371 

cheeks ; friends and neighbors stood in awe ; he could take 
no food; we watched, we hoped, we prayed; hope would 
vanish, then return; the group about the fireside would 
faintly whisper, "How is he ? " his respiration and heart 
beatings became incredibly fast ; his eyes gave up their radi- 
ance; he softly, sweetly sung " O, How I Love Jesus!" 
but his tongue grew weary, his voice grew weak ; his breath 
was exhausted; his heart lost its power; he quietly, pa- 
tiently, peacefully passed into the realm of spirits. A dot- 
ing sister was bereft of a companion brother ; a little brother, 
of a true friend and " partner ; " devoted parents, of a prom- 
ising son. Thus a cherished spoke was broken from our 
precious family wheel, which we still sadly miss. " From 
love's shining circle the gems drop away." Time and trust 
have softened, but they have not healed, the bitter sorrow. 

At home, at school, out of school, off at school, back from- 
school, a young lady at home — ^these few words extend from 
the cradle to " grown-up " girlhood. By and by the pre- 
vailing powers whispered that we were to have another son 
— not an heir according to the flesh, but by virtue of the 
law — ^that a " grown-up " boy should become a spoke in our 
family wheel. This soon came to pass ; the additional spoke 
was inserted J the "baby girl " became a bride. 

The little wheel still keeps constantly moving — rolling 
across the plains of time toward eternity's boundless sea. 
As a imit we trust it will long continue to move as now, all 
its spokes harmoniously united in one grand center — 
Christianity. 



372 Hearthstone; Echoes. 

WHOSE BOY> 

TJneolling the scroll of the past, I see a precious little 
jewel placed in a family ring. It is a baby boy. I stay 
near ; I watch his maneuvers ', I mark his course. Soon he 
develops a disposition remarkably affectionate. The key- 
note of his heart, as a sweet echo, quickly responds to any 
chord of love. He is tender-hearted j often does his mother 
kiss from the baby cheek the tear drops placed there 
by infant grief. By the way, we should never be sparing 
of our kind words to a cliild. Only a word of sympathy, 
in time of childish trouble, may break the thread of grief 
encircling and choking the infant heart. 

This little one is easily controlled. A word or look of 
love usually suffices; but when a more horrible weapon be- 
comes necessary, it is ever ready — a single broom straw on 
the mantel, leaning against the clock. It is not often used, 
however. An earnest look at it^ then a glance at the boy, 
is, as a rule, all-sujfficient. He has a mania for running 
away to a gum spring, not far from the house — the same 
spring in which his father, when a wee laddie, came near 
being drowned. One day his mother, realizing the danger, 
whips him nearly all the way back to the house. 0, what 
screams! Just listen! Surely the neighbors will think 
the little one is snake bitten, or a mad dog is tearing him to 
pieces, or his clothes have caught on fire and he is burning 
to death. 'Ro, no; his mother is only peppering his bare 
" footies " with a single straw of sedge grass. These are 




John H. Me;eks. 



Whose Boy? 373 

" love licks " to save the baby from a watery grave, but they 
almost break the little heart. 

His mamma often trots him on her knee and sings " Pret- 
tiest Little Boy in the Country — O." He exclaims, with all 
the earnestness of his nature : " Say 'girl' maiama ; say 
^ GIRL ! ' '' She continues to say " boy." His brow be- 
comes crowned with frowns, his face grows red, tears begin 
to chase each other down his fair and rosy cheeks, and his 
whole being seems to indicate a disapproval of her course. 
By the continued repetition of the word " boy " he becomes 
perfectly indignant, and cries as if an arrow had pierced his 
heart ; but when she changes to " prettiest little 'girl' " an 
instant brightening is seen in his countenance. With 
mouth open, tongue out, face wreathed in smiles, eyes spar- 
kling with love, he shows ecstatic delight — ^which, however, 
is instantly exchanged for horrid frowns and exclamations 
of sorest displeasure at substituting the word " boy." 

When he is three years old, the family move to Jackson 
(in January). When asked his age, he readily replies: 
" I was free years old the last nineteenth of December." 
He is a remarkable speller, never hesitating a moment on 
any word we give him. He scarcely ever uses a vowel. 
For instance, " P-h-d-k — bread ; f-k-g-d — house." A month's 
series of meetings being held at the church three-fourths 
of a mile from the little boy's home, he is taken every night 
with the family. He goes to sleep at the beginning of the 
services, according to his early training, and at the close 
is led home asleep, by two of the family — one on either side. 



374 Hearthstone Echoes. 

His little feet seem wide awake and ready for duty; they 
carry the little body at usual speed; but the head is fast 
asleep; eyes, closed; ears, dull of hearing; tongue, silent. 
The tiny neck seems unjointed, and permits the head co 
bobble and tumble about promiscuously, striking first one, 
then the other, of the parties leading him, tossing the little 
chinchilla cap off on the pavement — sometimes, behind him ; 
sometimes, in front. IlTot a cry, a pout, nor a whine — he 
is oblivious to the world and all its happenings. A very 
especial friend of his, Mr. Biggs, ascertaining how he walks 
home every night in his sleep, is touched with sympathy 
and carries the forty-five pounder in his arms all the way 
home the three or four remaining nights of the meeting. 

A year later the family move to Henderson. The one 
who makes the family biscuits frequently cuts one or two in 
some peculiar shape, "just to please the hahy." He regards 
it ag almost criminal and sacrilegious to eat his " funny bis- 
cuits," as he calls them, at mealtime. He lays them be- 
side his plate until through eating, then carefully puts them 
away for his lunch. One morning at breakfast he alarms 
us with a sudden scream, which is often and rapidly repeated. 
Surely the child has bitten his thumb half off ! In excite- 
ment we run to him, expecting to see the blood streaming 
down his large bib and on the table linen. Finding no 
blood, we decide it must be a broken tooth. When he re- 
covers suflficient control of his feelings to speak, amid tears 
and sobs, he says : " I — I — I bit — I bit my — funny 
BISCUIT ! " 



Whose Boy? 375 

During an entertainment given at the college by the lit- 
tle folks, their teacher, Miss Sue Inman, secretly attracts 
this little boy out of the audience; and all are astonished 
when the " four-year-old " — small for his years — walks 
fearlessly out on the rostrum, and, in an unconcerned man- 
ner, looks calmly over the large audience as if counting the 
many familiar faces, while he slowly and distinctly sings 
two verses of the good old " meetin' hymn," " On Jordan's 
Stormy Bunks," with the chorus : " We'll Work Till Jesus 
Comes." 

Just about this time a colored man — liberal with 
words — is hauling stove wood. Being on the " good side " 
of this child, he promises him a " shore-'nough one-horse 
wagon and a shore-'nough live horse ; " is to bring them "to- 
morrow, shore." The mother, anticipating the disappoint- 
ment, tries very hard to convince the child that the man is 
only jesting. " ^No, ma'am; he's istot joking. He says 
he'll being 'em, an' he will." Several to-morrows glide 
back with the yesterdays, and " next week " takes their 
place in the promise; yet he cannot be convinced it is a 
" joke." He goes on a visit to " grandpa's " to stay two 
weeks. The " shore-'nough " horse and wagon are, " with- 
out fail," to meet him at the train on his return, and he is 
to " drive up home." At the stated time he returns, with 
full assurance that his royal conveyance is at his command. 
Almost heartrending is his disappointment. Never pre- 
vious to this moment has his confidence been shaken in a 
positive assertion from the human tongue. 



376 Hearthstone Echoes. 

He shows great inclination to be seK-snstaining. lis 
decides to be a merchant. Arranging with Mr. Clark for 
space by his store door, he buys all his goods from him. 
The stock invoices twenty-five cents ; capital, borrowed from 
" papa ; " profit, minus one cent, the loss being caused by 
his great liberality, he voluntarily giving his sister a \'al- 
uable piece of candy worth one c-ent. This, his first mer- 
chandise, is all in a cigar box. 

A year glides by. He is ■a little more than five. An ex- 
cellent and very near neighbor, Mrs. Murchison, sends for 
him (she calls him one of her pets). A few moments later 
he returns home, perfectly wild. What is the matter ? 
Has she poisoned him ? Watch his strange actions ! 
There he goes ! Watch him ! He runs like a lion is after 
him. He darts through the house into the front yard, lies 
down in the grass, rolls over and over, jumps up, falls down, 
springs up like a rubber ball, falls again, turns somersaults, 
jumps up again, wheels around and around, down in the 
grass, stands on his head, then on his feet, dances a while, 
runs from one side of the yard to the other, then back, 
dashes around in a large circle, then in a smaller one, falls, 
rolls over and over again, his eyes flashed, face flushed, veins 
swollen in neck and throat, panting like a lizard. "What 
is tJie matter with that hoy ? " is the cry. The answer can 
be best given by some other little boy in his " FIEST 
PA^TS." Three times does a " boy " feel indescribably 
large — ^when he exchanges kilt skirts for " first pants," when 
he goes with his first girl, and when he buys his marriage 



Whosb Boy? 377 

license. After this be begins to feel tbe pressure of years 
and pocketbook, and is never again in the same degree im- 
pressed with bis own importance. 

This little one is a " sure-enongh hoy " now, six years 
old, and continues full of life, but not of mischief. He is 
not tbe boy to cut tbe telephone wires, throw stones to break 
windows in vacant houses, Or laugh at children who wear 
patched clothes. He still desires to earn his own money, 
and tries different traffics with all the earnestness any can- 
didate manifests in a " stump speech." He deals largely 
in live stock ; buys — not all at the same time — several calves, 
four goats, a number of pigs, and four dozen chickens. Mr. 
Hardeman gives him a pig, which he carries home (a quarter 
of a mile) on his shoulder, holding it by two feet. On his 
arrival his papa asks him, the weight of his pig. He 
quickly replies: "Well, sir, when I started with it, it 
weighed about fifteen pounds; now it weighs about sixty- 
five." Later he carries two pigs in a tow sack on his shoul- 
der half a mile, having paid two dollars for them. Some- 
times he realizes a small profit in bis traffic ; sometimes, sus- 
tains a heavy loss. For instance, he goes " up town " with 
his goat wagon filled with nice fruit for sale. A boy in his 
higher teens ruthlessly snatches some of the choicest fruit 
and jubilantly walks off eating it, leaving a lasting impres- 
sion on the young mind. The cholera invades his poultry 
yard and claims half the inmates. Some of his pigs are 
found dead in their bed. One goat is killed by the rail- 
road. His favorite goat, Charlie, gTows weary of running 



378 He;arthstone Echoes. 

iipliill and downhill from town witli the large (?) boy 
and a ham, a sack of potatoes or flour in his little wagon ; 
so he begs to go and be with other goats. He is not satis- 
fied with " well enough," but thinks he can do better by be- 
ing his own master. (Wonder if any little girl or boy ever 
thought thus.) Permission is granted. Charlie scam- 
pers away, and is soon in the pasture with his brethren. 
Being a town goat, he possibly feels his importance, and 
soon begins to lock horns with one of his fellow-citizens. 
[N^ot returning as early as expected, his master seeks and 
finds him, then comes home with sobs and tears, dirty face, 
and bloated eyes, and unable to utter a single word, except : 
"Oj my poor little Charlie ! " On investigation it is ascer- 
tained that, in the tussle with other goats, Charlie has been 
dehorned. 

However, the boy does not long suffer himself discouraged 
over trifles; but, like the oft-defeated spider, he ties the 
thread and tries again. When scarcely too large to wear a 
kilt skirt and sunbonnet, he picks enough strawberries in a 
very few days (at one and one-half cents a quart) to buy 
himself a five-dollar suit of clothes, at the same time going 
to school half of each day. Sometimes he uses his papa's 
study for a store and deals largely in the " pin-and-card " 
trade, keeping his books with great accuracy. This instills 
into him a love and aptitude for mercantile work; and 
finding favor with some of the merchants in town, they sell 
him a few little articles — ^matches, soap, bluing, soda, 
candy, bananas, etc. — at discount, so he can sell for a small 



Whose Boy? 379 

profit. Also, when they have a vacancy in their stores, they 
permit him to " clerk " for them, which seems part of his 
very nature. 

When he is almost seven, he attends the fair one day, and 
is so highly entertained he greatly desires to return the next 
day. The next morning his mother says to him : " Son, 
I cannot let you go to the fair to-day, for there is no one go- 
ing from home to take care of you." He makes no reply, 
but droops his head and looks very, very sad. In a few 
moments it is ascertained that a young lady living with the 
family is going and is willing to take the child. His mother 
calls him to her and says : " You have acted so nicely not 
to cry and pout over your disappointment I have decided 
to let you go, for Mattie is going and will take the best care 
of you. If you had been an ugly boy and cried, I would not 
have consented to your going; but you have been so sweet 
about it — " He turns his head to one side, looks at her 
with pleased countenance and sparkling eyes, and says : '' T 
knew you would be more apt to let me go if I said nothing. 
Mamma, / have been Tcnowing you just about seven years." 
About this time, having proudly (but not the first time) 
escorted a little girl home from a birthday party, he is re- 
turning home alone, a half mile or more, from " across 
town," when, in the blackness of night, he suddenly comes 
in severe contact with a lamp-post, which seems determined 
to knock him backward. Regaining his lost forces, he trots 
along, whistling a merry tune. Going rapidly down Col- 
lege Hill, he gazes at a mysterious white " something " to 



38o Hkarthstonk Echoes. 

his left and runs against something black, when, to his re- 
lief, "Bahj hahl " says the black goat and scampers away 
to its white companion. Another very dark night he crosses 
Owl Creek bottom alone, on horseback. "Who, who, who, 
who-oo-oo f " comes lonesomely pealing through the impen- 
etrable gloom from some unknown sentinel near by. The 
pony becomes frightened ; the boy feels " kinder queer like." 
"Who, who, who oor ye f " says a deeper-toned voice on the 
other side of the road, while just in front of him a shrill 
voice impatiently demands : " Who-oo oo-oo ? who-oo oo-oo ? " 
The boy wants to tell the strangers it is none of their busi- 
ness who he is, but for some reason the pony seems to have 
suddenly decided " there's no place like home ; " so the boy 
has no time to reply. It is his first acquaintance with the 
impertinent, big-eyed, horned fowls. 

At ten years he enters the fold of the good Shepherd, 
being led into the waters of obedience by the tender hand 
of his loving father, as were his brother and sister at the 
ages of eleven and ten. The following winter he accom- 
panies his parents to Florida; feasts on the luscious fruits 
until, by the intense freeze, the fair State is shorni of her 
golden glory ; then finds favor with a business Man in Ocala, 
for whom he sells papers until he clears for himself the neat 
little sum of twenty dollars, clearing one cent on each paper. 
He possesses wonderful power of absorption — can learn 
much from his environments without special study; yet 
while in school he studies well, makes good grades, and 
manifests much interest in his classes. In the Georgia Rob- 



Birthday Lktte;r. 381 

ertson Christian College, at Henderson, he completes the 
Commercial Course at the age of fourteen; has spent part 
of his time on the farm trying to better develop his physical 
self; and at the time of this writing is engaged in what 
seems his natural pursuit — mercantile work. He is now 
" sweet sixteen," and his worth (to his parents) is at least 
"sixteen to one." In him centers much of their love, their 
anxiety, their hope. Parental devotion shrinks at the idea 
of picturing for him any other than a pleasant future here 
and a more glorious hereafter. He is not overgrown in 
stature, but is immensely large in heart, and I trust has 
learned that the index finger to success continues to point 
heavenward. 

Who can guess whose boy this is ? Who is ready to claiiQ 
him? 



BIRTHDAY LETTER. 

(To Mr. R, P. M.) 
Hei^deeson, Tenn., " September 18," 1901. 

My Own True Companion : Twenty-eight years ago this 
day — this hour — I became yours, you became mine. 
Happy, fortunate incident in my life ; can you say as much ? 

Well, as you doubtless remember, the way it " so hap- 
pened " was somewhat after this fashion : You had claimed 
a birthday present from me (since we were reasonably good 
friends). Rubies and diamonds I had none; so you con- 
cluded you would try to be content with a cheaper present, 



382 He;arthstone; Echoes. 

and suck as I had gave I thee — ratker an insignificant birtk- 

day gift, I will admit, and so will you now, since you kave 

learned more about it j for it was notking but my own little 

self. However, you kave endured tke disappointment with 

great fortitude, for wkick you deserve muck credit, 

Twenty-eigkt years ago ! I believe we are now a little 

older tkan we were tken. Tke gTeat index finger points 

to your record and pronounces you fifty-two. Well, tkat 

is not so very old — at least not old enougk for me to place 

a lower estimate on you. I am keeping rigkt well up witk 

you — only two and one-kalf years behind. "We are aware 

of no especial crime on our record to make us blusk or 

weep ; and it is our intention, witk divine aid, to make tke 

future, if ours, contain still fewer blunders. If we are 

spared to eack otker until " silver tkreads " usurp tke place 

of all tke dark ones on our brows and our vision becomes 

seriously impaired, we, fortunately, will not see tke deep 

furrows in eack otker's ckeeks as distinctly as otkers wilL 

Tkey will appear to us, doubtless, like sligkt dimples, in 

wkick are stored away tke essence of sweet memories of tke 

" used to be." Like "Jamie " and " Maggie," let us try 

to be blinded to eack otker's imperfections, so eack to tke 

other can say: 

" To me you're as fair as you were, , 

When you and I were young." 

Let US live patiently, live konorably, live godly, and try to 
grow old gracefully if granted long life, so to us tke " koary 
head " will be a " crown of glory." 



Birthday Letter. 383 

Of course, our wedded life has not been all sunshine. 
!N'ow and then a dense cloud arises, and nature weeps. 
Sometimes the darkness grows so deep, so heavy, we feel the 
chill of despair creep over our very hearts. Darkness he- 
fore us, around us ! Together we have seen bright days and 
dark days ; together we have " passed under the rod " of 
affliction. There is a sadly vacant room in our home and 
a strangely sad vacuum in your heart and mine. The par- 
ent stem always bleeds and suffers when from it is plucked 
a cherished rose. " But the Healer is here, pouring balm 
in our hearts," and assures us : " Earth hath no sorrows that 
heaven cannot cure." The star of hope appears brighter 
when seen through tears. When tears flow freely and 
swiftly for a while, they leave the vision clear for stars and 
sun ; but we must looh up to see them. Byron calls a tear 
" the weapon of a woman's weakness." Be that as it may, 
tears many times give the pent-up, crushed heart relief. 
Then when heart-crushed, we should not keep the tears 
pent up against their will, but should let them flow un- 
checked, until, like summer raindrops, they will be pierced 
by sunbeams. However, we should not go " tear-blinded 
through life and touch but tombs," thus blighting the happi- 
ness of ourselves and others. Let us look at the *' shield " 
from the golden side. A source of unspeakable solace and 
joy you have always been to your family and other loved 
ones, and they wish for you a long-continued service in the 
work of our risen Lord, with Heaven to smile in love upon 
your life and labors. After the night of death, may you 



384 Hearthstone; Echoes. 

gladly, joyously, triumphantly awaken in tliat beautiful 
" home of the soul." 

As a willing partaker of your sunshine and sadness, your 
sorrow and gladness, I am. 

Your faithful, though inferior, life partner. 



''GRANDMAMMA.'' 

" Home, sweet home " — a household of peace, crowned 
with Christian love and unity — is made sweeter still by the 
presence of an honored, well-balanced, hoary head which 

" Time has touched in his rapid flight, 
And changed the darker locks ta white." 

Time has thus dealt with a dear old jfireside jewel of our 
little household, and now she is lovingly called "grand- 
mamma." 

We often speak of the milestones along life's road. This 
is very appropriate until we cross the half -century mark, 
after which some one says anniversaries come " like tele- 
graph poles when we are on a lightning express train." 
Doubtless they seem to pass incredibly fast to this aged pil- 
grim,* who still adds so much cheer to our little home circle 
and for whose prolonged existence we are truly grateful. 
Among the first things I remember about her is when good 
old Brother Love — one of the Lord's best watclnnen of 
soids — gently led her down into the waters of baptism. I 




Grandmamma Larimore. 



* ' Grandmamma. " 385 

wondered why he did this, for I was then too young to real- 
ize the importance of obeying even a command of God for 
which we cxivld see no necessity. It does not seem long 
since that day, but time has passed with winged feet and 
has buried more than twoscore years in the grave of the yes- 
terdays. Years seem long or short according to their goal, 
and her aim has been to honor the divine name she that day 
assumed, try to advance the Master's cause she that day 
espoused, and lighten the burdens of frail humanity. Dur- 
ing this long journey, since she entered the ranks of the 
world's great Leader, not one backward step have we known 
her to take. 

" That load becomes light which is cheerfully borne." 
The spirit wrapped in this little borrowed thought has 
greatly aided her in enduring life's trials, of which she has 
had her share. Realizing a busy hour seems shorter than 
a leisure one, she, with heart full of unshed tears, has many 
times put on a bright countenance and looked around her 
for some one she could benefit; and in benefiting others, 
she has herself been blessed. The bitter of life's cup she 
has sipped with meek submission, though many times with 
breaking heart ; of the sweet she has participated with hum- 
ble gratitude. While blessed with physical strength, to the 
distressed she was always a " good Samaritan ; " to the 
needy, a ready friend. She never impairs the happiness 
of others by frequent allusions to her own ailments, misfor- 
tunes, and sorrows. She has always manifested a devo- 
tion for her friends and loved ones which is really charm- 



386 Hearthstone Echoes. 

ing, forgetting herself in their behaK, no saerifice being too 
great for her to make for them. She possesses a sweet, 
amiable, cheery disposition which few can claim in so high 
a degree. Her mind has been so wholesomely and actively 
employed it has been less susceptible of the decrepitude that 
usually attends the aged than a mind that " feeds on itself." 
It is remarkable to see one at the advanced age of eighty- 
nine so well preserved and so free from being childish and 
sensitive. So many in their declining years lose interest 
in the activities of the present and live only in the mem- 
ories of the long ago. !N^ot thus with her. In memory her 
strong mind can look back and view the scenes and inci- 
dents of more than three-fourths of a century, and she can 
thrill the youth to-day with verbal descriptions of the same. 
At the same time, with her active brain and well-preserved 
visage she keeps informed as to the occurrences of the pres- 
ent, and is interested in the world's daily happenings. She 
finds great solace in good books, and reads until her eyes 
falter over the printed page; then stops a while, walks 
around, works with her flowers, looks admiringly on the 
beauties and grandeur of earth and sky; then comes back, 
and is soon busy again with her work or reading. Her in- 
dustrious habits are proverbial. Beared under the " old 
constitution," she is, in one respect at least, far from being 
up to date, and may by some be regarded as " old fogy " — 
that is, when in reasonable health she never lies down during 
the day ; cannot be persuaded to do so. 
, " Grandmamma Larimore " has many friends among 



"Grandmamma." 387 

young and old, won by her mild, lovable disposition. She 
is so grateful for every little service rendered her, and never 
forgets the golden key: "Thank you." When suffering, 
she tries to keep any one from knowing it. She has kept 
folded from us hundreds of ills which we would by chance 
at last discover. Then she would mildly say : " Well, what 
good would it do to tell you of every little ache and pain? ■' 
I often wish she would complain more when suffering, so I 
would not neglect her and could give her at least a little 
more sympathy. ( She is averse to medical treatment. ) 
It is said that suffering becomes beautiful when borne with 
cheerfulness through greatness of mind. She often locks 
her sorrow in her own bosom and keeps her aches to herself, 
that others may not be grieved thereby. 

Though this dear old " grandmamma " (my own tender 
mother) may live years after seeing me buried, yet I real- 
ize too sadly that, according to nature, she is rapidly going 
down the hill of life— nay, rather, that in the sublimest 
sense she is fast going up ; is climbing higher and higher ; 
has already climbed so high she can plainly see, through 
the telescope of faith, into the city of gold and pearls. She 
is nearing the last round of life, from which she can step 
into the portals of glory. When I think of this (which is 
often), 1 am haunted with such questions as these: Am I 
doing what I can for her ? Am I making her life as bright 
as I could ? She freely gave much of her time and strength 
for my benefit when time and strength were hers to give. 
Am I doing as much for her ? Through winter's blast and 



388 Hkarthstone Echqe^s. 

summer's scorching heat she has toiled for me, and has 
willingly and gladly sacrificed much for my sake. She 
watched my infant slumbers with an anxiety that none but 
a mother can feel. With her soft, velvety hand she has 
lovingly bathed my fevered cheek and pressed my aching 
brow. Have I repaid her? IsTay, verily. She is now 
where, if I am spared, the wheels of time will soon place 
me. It is mine now to bear her burdens and to shield her 
as she long ago shielded me. Am I doing thus ? (I hope 
the public will forgive me for what I am saying.) She is 
doubly dear to me ; is so much comfort and ever ready and 
anxious to do all in her power to add to my pleasure ; is such 
good company, so companionable, so sweet ; but do I tell her 
so as often as I should? That great heart of love which 
glowed with devotion for her children, in their babyhood 
has never grown weary in its devotion; but as the sun- 
flower continually turns to face the " day god " as he traces 
his course across the skies, so she ever turns her fond vigils 
on us as we travel the dusty road of life, and is ever ready 
to weep at our failures or rejoice at our success. If I love 
and appreciate her, shall I wait until she is gone before I 
tell her so ? 

I trust no one will censure me for saying that to me it 
gives a sense of rest to look upon that open countenance — 
so earnest, tender, strong, and true. To me there is an in- 
ward beauty shining through " the chinks that time has 
made," illuminating the face with a soft, mild splendor, 
giving sweetness to the expression and charm to every word 



' ' Grandmamma. " 389 

and look. I can imagine those wrinkles as only bright wave- 
lets of sunshine chasing each other over the dear old face ; 
I can see true, pure mother love peeping out from the 
shallow furrows which time has plowed in her cheeks; but 
shall I wait until the death angel calls her and is closing 
the gate of day before I tell her how I love and appreciate 
her ? Shall we all wait until she is gone, then speak her 
praises only on paper and marble ? 

I feel so thankful that, though seemingly she is perfeetly 
resigned and ever ready for the summons to go hence, she 
does not, like some, appear to grow weary of this life, be- 
come homesick, and pine and sigh for home. It is my hope 
that, with her wonderful constitution and vitality, braced 
by her patience, prudence, and sound judgment, we may for 
several years yet be blessed with her presence to cheer our 
homes and hearts. May such our fortune be ; then " when 
in. the bosom of the west the weary sun sinks to his rest," 
may she only wrap the. mantle of faith more closely around 
her and lie down to peaceful dreams, to awake in the happy 
beyond. 



The End. 



AUG 1 1 1902 



AUG 5. ,1902 



1902 




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